


Debt to Settle

by gengenshead



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-29
Updated: 2013-01-05
Packaged: 2017-11-17 06:50:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 25,961
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/548781
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gengenshead/pseuds/gengenshead
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Derek has an old debt to settle. A simple babysitting job seems like an easy way to settle up. But then nothing ever is as easy as it seems and Derek finds paying this debt will be much more than he bargained for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Rae666](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rae666/gifts).



> First Teen Wolf fic! Also, first fic on this site! I love reviews, of course who doesn't! Constructive criticism is always welcome, too. 
> 
> Thanks to Rae, Schelz and B for pushing me to continue this fic and for encouraging me to post!

**Chapter 1**

 

Dust drifted from the rafters of the charred remains of the Hale family home with every punch Derek landed on his newly acquired punching bag. After his uncle, Peter’s return from the dead, Derek decided he needed some way to take out his growing frustrations. And there was nothing better to block out Peter’s presence and cryptic comments than blasting some music and punching the bag, pretending it was him. Not that the music could completely block Peter out any more than it could the ringing of his cell phone from across the room. Once his ears were tuned to something it was always there.

Sweeping up the towel from the chair beside the radio and wiping the sweat from his face in one movement, he reached out with his free hand and switched off the music.

“Are you gonna get that?” Peter called from the other room.

Derek ignored him and pulled the phone from his jacket pocket. Checking the caller ID, he let the unknown caller go to voicemail and threw the phone onto the chair. He turned back to the punching bag, but before he could wind up for his next jab his phone chimed, announcing a text message. _What now?_ He snatched the phone back up.

_It’s time to pay your debt. R_

He pulled on his shirt and grabbed his jacket, pocketing his phone as he headed for the door. He was out the door and in his Camaro as Peter called after him, wondering where he was going. He sped off, kicking up dirt and gravel. His phone rang again and this time he answered it.

“What do you want from me,” he growled, turning onto the road leading into town.

“Is that any way to greet an old friend?”

“We’re not friends, never were.” Derek pulled into the deserted lot next to a long-closed service station. “Now, what do you want from me?”

 

* * *

 

Derek’s Camaro rumbled to a stop in front of the gate and newly built brick wall surrounding a house similar to Lydia Martin’s in size and style. He rolled his eyes, staring up at the seven or eight foot high gate and wall, when he noticed strange symbols etched into some of the bricks. Stepping out of the car, he moved in for a closer look, his fingers grazing what he now recognized as some kind of sigils carved into each brick.

“You like them? I carved each one myself.”

Derek spun on his heel, not liking that he hadn’t heard the man’s approach. “Guess you’ve had some time on your hands.”

“Well worth every moment I spent on it,” the man chuckled heartily. “You might want to invest a little more time at honing your wolf senses instead of turning every wayward teenager you find.”

Derek’s fists clenched at his sides, his jaw tightening. Had he been watching him this whole time, sitting back while people were killed? “Why am I here, Rowan?” Derek growled, jamming his hands in his pockets.

“Ever the patient one,” Rowan smiled, sliding into the driver’s seat of Derek’s Camaro and pushing open the passenger door. “There’s someone I want you to meet.”

 

* * *

 

Derek followed Rowan through the house, glancing around at the richly furnished rooms and immaculate white walls. It was a stark contrast to the sparsely furnished shell the Hale house had become after the fire. Rowan led him upstairs, stopping at the last door at the end of the hall and giving a soft knock.

“Becs.” Rowan’s voice and whole demeanor seemed to shift as he pushed open the door and entered the bedroom. “I want you to meet someone.”

“I don’t want to meet another doctor, Rowan.”

Derek’s gaze shifted searching the dimly lit room for the voice’s owner. He found her curled up on a large armchair in the dark corner, looking out the window. Her red hair shimmered like fire in the dim lighting as she continued to stare out the window into the darkness beyond.

“No, not another doctor,” Rowan assured though she showed little interest in his presence. “He’s a friend of mine.” This got her attention. Derek felt a smile tug at his lips as she glanced up, looking almost surprised at the thought of Rowan having a friend. Her gaze met Derek’s briefly before returning to window. “This is Derek Hale,” Rowan continued undeterred and Derek was left trying to understand who this girl was to Rowan that he was so changed around her. “He’s going to be staying with you while I’m away for a few days.”

Derek frowned at him questioningly. Babysitting, that’s what Rowan was calling in his favour for? He heard the redhead sigh and could feel the frustration pouring from her. She gave a defeated shrug and pulled the blanket closer around her sagging shoulders. “Was that all you wanted?” she asked her voice flat, her gaze never wavering from the night’s inky depths.

Rowan’s eyes narrowed slightly. “Yeah,” he replied, recovering with a tight smile. “We’ll let you get some rest.” With that he led Derek out of the room, gently closing the door behind him and quietly making his way downstairs again.

They entered the living room, Rowan motioning for Derek to take a seat on the black leather couch. Derek remained standing, arms folded across his chest, watching Rowan pour a glass of what looked and smelled like whiskey holding up the glass in offer to him. Derek shook his head, deciding to break the silence. “So, in return for saving my life you want me to babysit your—” Derek wasn’t sure who the girl was to Rowan and he wasn’t sure he wanted to know. “Isn’t that like asking the big bad wolf to watch over Red Riding Hood?”

“Big bad wolf, huh?” Rowan chuckled arrogantly. “Someone’s head has gotten a little inflated since becoming _The_ Alpha.”

A low rumble at the base of his throat was the only thing that betrayed Derek’s stoic exterior. Rowan moved to the couch, sinking into the plush leather, glass hanging lazily from his hand.

“Now, now, don’t let your pride get the best of you,” Rowan teased, obviously enjoying pushing Derek’s buttons. “All you need to do is protect Becca as though she were one of your precious pack for as long as I ask you to and your debt will be paid in full.”

“She’s dying.” It wasn’t a question, it was a statement. Derek could hear the faltering rhythm of her heart. “And you actually expect me to believe you care?” His hand gestured at the ceiling. “That you can’t bear to watch her waste away so you’d have me do it for you?”

“No, I expect you to pay your debt.” Rowan set down his glass and pushed up from the couch. Squaring his shoulders, he narrowed his gaze at Derek. “The girl’s use to me is none of your concern. She’s owes me a debt, like you and so many others. Your job is to make sure she stays alive long enough to see it paid.”

“You need to find someone else to babysit your investment.” Derek turned toward the door, pausing to add, “I have my own problems to deal with.”

“You know, Derek, an Alpha is only as strong as his pack. I’d hate to see you lose your last Beta. So eager to please, isn’t he?”

A loud growl erupted from Derek’s throat, his eyes flashing red at Rowan’s threat as he spun around to face him. “You stay away from Isaac.”

Rowan laid his head back against his shoulders and Derek smelt the blood as the vampire’s teeth descended. “Who’s gonna stop me, the big bad wolf?” Rowan snarled, his green eyes burning with deadly intensity. Rowan’s features shifted back to human and he picked up his glass. “We both know you can’t beat me, Derek,” he paused, taking a long drink. “Don’t make me kill everyone you care about trying to prove yourself an Alpha.”

“When this is done, we are even and you never set foot in Beacon Hill again.” Derek’s eyes faded back to their natural colour and he glared at Rowan, hands clenched at his sides, waiting for Rowan to accept his terms.

“I don’t know, that might be the deal breaker.” Rowan flashed a toothy smile as Derek’s fists tightened at his sides. “This place is kind of growing one me.” Derek’s nostrils flared and he took a deep breath, knowing the vampire was trying to get a rise from him. Rowan waved his hand dismissively. “Of course, this quaint little piece of…heaven, is all yours when we’re done,” Rowan replied, sounding bored. He dropped back onto the couch. “You can see yourself out, can’t you?”

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Thanks for reading! Should be updating every 3-4 days!**

**Chapter 2**

Derek sat at the base of the stairs, waiting. He'd paced for nearly an hour after Rowan left, before settling in, waiting to hear signs that Becca was awake. Rowan had instructed him to stay out of the girl's way that he was simple there to be a watch dog. Derek's mind kept circling back to the night Rowan had introduced him to Becca. The way the vampire's demeanor around the redhead suggested she was more to him than just an investment he wanted to see pay dividends. Derek decided he needed to know more about this woman, if for no other reason than to know what he was up against as her protector.

He climbed to the upstairs landing when he heard her moving around her room. He could use the direct approach and ask her, but he doubted she'd be very forthcoming about what it was that had indebted her to the vampire. When he heard the shower he knew it was a prime chance to look around Becca's room.

He slipped into her room, pausing as the door clicked closed behind him. He stood, listening to the erratic beating of her heart from behind the adjoining bathroom door, finally moving away from the door when he heard her soft sigh as she stepped beneath the shower's spray.

Derek crept quietly to the bed, lifting the covers and glancing beneath, finding nothing. His gaze swept to the night table. A half-empty glass of water and a ring sat on the smooth dark wood. He picked up the dainty golden band, studying the crowned heart held between two hands. A Claddaugh, he was familiar with the symbolism of the ring and knew it was a traditional Irish wedding band. He wondered briefly if Becca was married. If so, where was her husband?

Replacing the ring, he moved around the bed to corner with the chair where she'd sat that first night. On the table beside it sat a small leather bound book and drawing pencil. He flipped through the pages of the sketchbook filled with drawings of people and places. The last pages were filled with drawings of one man in particular, some smudged as though they'd been wet. Derek caught the faint odor of salt and knew it was more than just water that had smudged the pages.

He returned the book to its place, noticing a purse on the floor between the chair and the bed. He rummaged through the brown leather satchel pulling out Becca's wallet. He stared at the smiling photograph of her on her driver's license, wondering what had happened to erase that smile. Rebecca Sinclair. He committed the name to memory, planning to ask Stiles to find out everything he could about her. He wondered briefly if it would be worth all the questions Stiles would undoubtedly ask.

Knowing he didn't have much more time, Derek moved to the closet near the bedroom door. On first glance it looked like any woman's closet; clothes hanging neatly on their hangers, a few pairs of shoes and a pair of Doc Marten's lined at the bottom. He pushed the clothes to one side and found nothing. But when he moved them to the opposite end, he exposed a brown leather duffel bag wedged into the corner.

He pulled it from the closet, surprised by the weight of it and set it on the ground. Beneath what seemed to be a set of workout clothes, was an arsenal of weapons. Derek counted three guns of various calibers, a couple of hunting knives, and a pair of brass knuckles. He fished them out of the bag, a soft chuckle escaping his lips as he imagined the petite redhead using them. He threw them back in, rummaging further and coming up with a set wooden stakes and vials of what looked like different herbs, one of which Derek recognized as wolfsbane. His jaw clenched realizing this helpless girl Rowan had him babysitting was anything but.

His gaze ticked to the bathroom door as the water stopped and he carefully replaced the bag and pushed the hangers back to conceal it once more. He slipped out the door, left with more questions than answers and headed downstairs to call Stiles.

* * *

"I'll call you back." Derek didn't wait for Stiles to respond before ending the call and pocketing his phone. He glanced up at the doorway as Becca moved into the living room.

"Don't hang up on my account." Becca moved to the leather armchair next to the sofa where Derek sat. "So, did you find what you were looking for?" Her gaze met his, eyebrow arched over her right eye. Derek's brow furrowed wondering if it was a trick of the lighting that her eyes seemed to be two different colours. "Yeah, one brown, one blue." She waved her hand in front of Dereks' face. "Well?"

"Not sure what you mean?"

"Oh, come on," Becca chuckled wryly. "I get it. You're protecting someone, it's just good strategy to find out as much about as you can about them to assess the threats you're up against."

"What is it exactly that you think I did?"

"We both know you've seen my weapons." Becca pushed up from the chair with a frustrated sigh. "You know I'm a hunter, like you I'm guessing." She paused, studying him a long moment. "You're not a vampire, Rowan doesn't trust other vampires."

"I'm not a hunter," Derek replied gruffly, glaring at the redhead. He looked away, staring down at the carpet as he struggled to reign in his anger. If she knew what hunters had done to his family, even the human members, would she be so proud to call herself one?

"Okay." Becca frowned a little at his reaction. "So, not a vampire or a hunter. Aren't you a mystery." He heard her drop back into the armchair and could feel her studying him. Though her tone was almost joking, it reminded him of Kate's taunts as she tortured him in his basement and it took all his concentration to reign in his anger.

"I hear women like a good mystery," Derek replied after a long moment. "Most hunters don't. They tend to kill things they don't understand."

Becca studied him, understanding lighting her mismatched eyes. Her jaw clenched and she shook her head, swearing under her breath. "So, who was it? Did a hunter kill your vampire girlfriend or was she a succubus with a heart of gold?"

Derek's jaw tightened at her mocking tone, Kate's face flashing in his mind. "So, what, you think everything supernatural is evil and deserves to die?" he growled, pinning her with an angry glare.

"I live in a house that belongs to a vampire, what do you think?" She chuckled lifting her arms from her sides. "I've seen monsters become heroes, and men do more evil than any monster ever could. Does that answer your question?"

A loud crash of breaking glass interrupted any response Derek might have had. He bolted for the front door. He turned back, watching Becca rush upstairs and when he was satisfied she'd made it to safety he yanked open the door. His hands flew up to shield his face against the heated air that rushed at him. He squinted at the fire blazing on the lawn in front of the house. He scanned the grounds but couldn't see anything through the thick smoke.

Closing his eyes he listened for sounds of movement that would give away the culprits. The only sounds were from the house behind him. He heard Becca's hurried steps and quickened heartbeat before she appeared at the door.

"Tell me you didn't leave the gate open." He glanced her way, sending a questioning look at her frustrated tone. "Go get something to put out that fire," she barked, motioning at the house with her gun before pointing it back out before her. Her free hand holding her shirt sleeve to her face, she took a cautious step away from the door, her eyes continually scanning her surroundings.

"What the hell are you doing?" Derek demanded, placing himself a step in front of her as she moved off the porch and onto the grounds. "Get back inside."

"There's something you need to know about me," Becca side stepped him. "I don't take orders." She moved slowly toward the front gate, scrutinizing the grounds every couple of steps, gun level and at the ready. "Now, put out that fire before someone calls the fire department, would ya."


	3. Chapter 3

**Thanks for reading!**

**Chapter 3**

"Stay in the car," Derek muttered, slipping out the door. He half expected Becca to jump out of the passenger's side and follow him the way she'd insisted on coming with him in the first place. Thankfully, she didn't. The earlier excitement had left the hunter exhausted, though her pride would never let her admit it. He could hear her taking shallow breaths as her heart beat sluggish and irregular. How was he supposed to keep her alive if she insisted on pushing herself too hard?

He slipped into Beacon Hill high through the side door. The halls were deserted, the calm before the storm. In a few minutes the corridors would be flooded with students rushing to lunch. Derek could feel their anticipation as he followed Stile's scent. Once he'd found the boy's classroom he moved across the hall and a few doors down so he could watch but not be noticed. The bell rang and he could hear Stiles and Scott talking as they merged with the deluge of students milling out of neighbouring classes.

He pulled out his cell phone and sent a quick text to Stiles, demanding to know what he'd come up with on Becca. Hanging back in the thinning crowd of students, he followed the two teens to their lockers. A smile twitched at his lips at the sight of Stiles fumbling in his pockets, nearly dropping his phone. He heard the teen huff as he read the message and knew there was an eye roll accompanying it though Stiles' back was turned to him.

"You go on ahead, I'll meet you in a few minutes," Stiles said, waving Scott off when he hesitated.

When Scott was out of earshot, Stiles pulled out his phone, dialing what Derek assumed was his number. But Derek was on him before he could press send. His hand over Stiles' mouth to keep him from yelling out, Derek dragged him out the way he'd come and pushed him into the back seat of his Camaro.

"Geez, dude," Stiles cried out excitedly, barely managing to keep from falling head first into the seat. "You couldn't just wait for me to call you back with the information you wanted on that crazy h—" Stiles' eyes widened as he noticed Becca staring at his from the front seat. "H-herpes cure." Derek's Jaw clenched, glaring at Stiles in the rear view mirror.

Stiles laughed nervously, shifting his gaze back to Becca. "Wow, heterochromia irridis! You know that's really rare," he pointed at her mismatched eyes. "Less than two hundred thousand people in the US," he added excitedly.

Becca just stared at the boy for a long moment, her brow furrowing as she turned to Derek. " _This_ is your go to guy, a high school, what…senior?"

"Junior," Stiles interjected leaning into the space between the two front seats. "Actually" He pressed his lips closed, his eyes wide at Derek's look. "I'm just gonna…" he motioned to the back seat leaning completely back against it.

" _He's_ gonna help us figure out who set fire to the lawn without getting past the gate?" Without responding, Derek started the car and pulled away from the school.

"What fire? Where?" Stiles asked, his words quick and animated, leaning forward again as he continued, "where're we going? Are we gonna eat lunch, 'cause I gotta tell ya, I work much better on a full stomach."

* * *

Derek leaned over Stile's shoulder to get a closer look at the computer screen. "Perfonal 'pace," Stiles mumbled around a mouthful of burger. Derek ignored the boy, staring at the screen. While Becca occupied herself searching for the possible culprits supernatural or otherwise of that morning's fire, Derek asked Stiles to show him what he'd found out about Becca.

He read over a ten-year-old newspaper clipping about Rebecca Sinclair, 15, who'd gone missing. Quotes from her mother and friends claiming she would never have run away and from the police, claiming to be looking into her possible abduction. Then there was nothing. No credit reports, school records past when she went missing, no tax returns, nothing for ten years.

Though this was unusual, it was the second newspaper article from a couple of weeks before her arrival in Beacon Hills with Rowan that had Derek wondering just who she was. The article was an obituary, complete with smiling photograph of Becca. _"…sudden, unexpected death Friday, March 9_ _th_ _, 2012 of Rebecca Sinclair, 25. A private funeral to take place Sunday, March 11_ _th_ _, 2012. She leaves behind her fiancé, Luke Darringer and uncle, Rowan St. Christen."_

"She looks pretty good for a dead woman," Stiles mumbled under his breath.

Derek's gaze jerked to the opposite corner where Becca sat at her own computer. Her heart beat accelerated and her breath quickened the way they did when someone was surprised. Had she heard Stiles? Her gaze met his, and her heart beat faltered as she looked away, but not before Derek caught a glimpse of something. Sadness, in her eyes?

His jaw clenched, realizing if she'd searched fires in Beacon Hills, she'd undoubtedly found out about his family. He could feel her pity and it only served to ignite his anger. The last thing he wanted was a hunter pitying him. "Look up Rowan St. Christen," he ordered through clenched teeth, his voice a low growl. He heard Stiles comply, his fingers quickly tapping away at the keys.

Articles about the millionaire philanthropist filled the page. Hospital boards, charity auctions and fundraisers. Opening businesses, creating jobs. Everything to make the vampire look like the kindest man on the planet. What better place for the vampire to hide than in plain sight.

"This guy's a saint," Stiles murmured, scrolling through the pages of links.

"Try, Luke Darringer." Derek's gaze ticked to Becca as he spoke. The fatigue she'd been fighting all morning was starting to show through. Her shoulders were hunched and dark smudges beneath her eyes. So, he was trying to keep a dead girl alive. Why fake her death if she was dying anyway?

"Well, that's interesting," Stiles' stunned tone pulled him out of his thoughts. Stiles nodded at the screen. It was an obituary identical to Becca's; even the date was the same. The only difference was that this one was for Luke Darringer, 34, who left behind his fiancée Rebecca Sinclair. "And then there's this few years back." Stiles clicked another link.

_"…Luke Darringer was held for questioning in Addison MI, in connection with the disappearance of Edward Matthews, 34. The police later released Darringer claiming a lack of evidence tying the man to Matthews' disappearance…"_

"And this from, like a week ago." Stiles clicked on another link.

_"…Friday, March 30_ _th_ _, 2012. Two men were arrested outside a Boston bar after a fight broke out between the men and the other patrons. Luke Darringer and Jamie Briggs were charged with drunken and disorderly conduct and were released on bail the next morning. A court appearance for both men is scheduled for…"_

"That can't be the same guy, can it?" Stiles asked, but Derek wasn't paying attention. He knew this was no coincidence. Jamie Briggs was one of the Brethren hunters Rowan had saved him from. "Hey, is she alright?" Stiles nudged his head in Becca's direction.

"She's dying," Derek replied, closing Stiles' laptop and pressing it to the boy's chest. "C'mon I'll drive you back to school."

"Wait, what?" Stiles hugged his laptop to him as Derek scooped him up by the collar of his shirt. "She's dying and you're just gonna leave her here?" he hissed.

"She'll be fine, for now." He cleared his throat, garnering Becca's attention. There was a new softness to her gaze when she looked at him that he hated. "I'm taking the kid back to school. You should get some rest."


	4. Chapter 4

**Thanks for reading and especially for reviewing! Means a lot! Gen**

**Chapter 4**

Derek could still feel Stiles' frustration even after he'd drop the boy back at school. It lingered in the car as he pulled up the Hale house. He'd met each of Stiles' rapid fire questions with his usual stoic silence, only speaking as the teen got out of the car. Even then, just to instruct him not to say anything to Scott or Isaac about Becca or anything they'd found. Stiles muttered something about not having a clue what they'd actually found as he slammed the car door and stalked away.

Stepping slowly from his car, Derek could hear Peter inside the house and knew without looking that he was watching him. He was not in the mood for a conversation with the older wolf. He wanted a shower and change of clothes to rid himself of the lingering smell of smoke from the fire that morning. He had enough on his mind without the scent of fire dredging up more memories of the one that had left his home and life a shell of what it had once been.

Peter was standing at the base of the stairs when Derek entered, his nose wrinkling with distaste. "Rushing off in the middle of the night, leaving before I wake up in the morning and now coming back smelling of smoke," Peter shook his head pursing his lips like a disapproving parent. "I feel like this is your teenage years all over again." Derek stepped to the stairs, but Peter didn't move. "Are we gonna have to have _the talk_ again?"

A frustrated growl rumbled at the base of Derek's throat, his eyes flashing red at his uncle's smirking face. "MOVE," Derek snarled, grabbing his uncle's shoulders and shoving him aside.

"Touchy, touchy," Peter called up after him. "I'm just being a concerned uncle."

Derek stood under the spray of the shower, letting the hot water work the kinks out of his neck and shoulders. He went over what he'd learned, though it wasn't much. Not only was Becca a hunter, but she was mixed up with the Brethren. Was she a member? It seemed unlikely, from what Derek remembered of his encounter with the group of hunters they'd only been men among them.

Jamie Briggs. The name set his blood boiling, his fists clenched at this sides. After the fire Derek and his sister Laura had left Beacon Hills. Run from was probably more true. They'd run, afraid the hunters that had killed their family would want to finish the job. They'd ended up in New York joining another pack there, hoping to blend in, and thinking there was safety in numbers.

Unfortunately, their new pack, didn't believe in preserving human life as much as they did in giving in to their animal urges. A rash of animal attacks and killings attracted hunters; attracted the Brethren. They'd managed to stay hidden as the hunters killed the members of their new pack, one-by-one. Their loyalty to each other outweighed any loyalty they may have felt towards the others. They soon found out the Alpha of their new pack felt the same way about them.

Jamie and another hunter had the Alpha cornered, toying with it, wanting to know if there were any others left. At first the Alpha refused to talk, but hunters had ways of getting the answers they wanted. Eventually, he told the hunters about his two newest members, even gave them descriptions. Derek could feel the anger and betrayal from Laura, just as he felt her clawed nails dig into his hand as he held her still. It was her angry growl that gave away their position to the hunters.

They'd split up, running in opposite directions to better their chances of getting away. They promised to meet, a small farmhouse outside Rochester in a week. Derek had no intention of getting away. Not if he could lead the hunters away from his sister and keep the last of his family alive.

The hunters had cornered him, unsure when they found him in his human form beneath the full moon. The other hunter was sure they had the wrong guy, it was impossible after all for an infected person to control the wolf, under the sway of the full moon. But Jamie didn't seem convinced.

He stowed his gun in his belt and slowly moved forward while the other hunter kept his gun trained on Derek, demanding to know what Jamie was doing. Jamie punched Derek in the stomach. "Just making sure," he called back to his friend. "You've always gotta be sure."

Derek hunched over, listening for his sister, her scent growing fainter on the wind. He drew a shallow breath and slowly stood back up, ready to take another hit if it meant his sister would get away. Jamie seemed only too willing to oblige, punching him in the face this time.

"The female is gone," a voice called from the shadows. "Where's the male?" Rowan St. Christen stepped from the shadows. Jamie backed away from Derek as the other hunter explained that they'd cornered Derek here and that he fit the description the Alpha had given. Rowan leaned his head back against his shoulders and Derek smelt blood. Glowing green eyes surveyed Derek a long moment, before he stepped forward and drew a deep breath. "Why isn't he shifting, the moon is full?" He turned back to the two hunters his features returning to human as he gave them both a questioning glance. Neither hunter spoke. "Pack it up, we lost them. We'll have to wait until the next full moon to track them."

"What about him?" Jamie asked, motioning to Derek.

"I'll give him something else to remember," Rowan replied. "You know how persuasive I can be."

"C'mon, you don't wanna watch him put the vampire mojo on this guy," Jamie said to the other hunter, leading him away. "It's all snivelling and wet pants," he added loud enough that Derek would have heard him without his heightened hearing.

"So, how do you not shift?" Rowan asked, leaning in close and sniffing Derek's neck. "I've never met someone who can control the wolf on a full moon."

"I don't know what you're—"

"Ahh, ahh, ahh." Rowan shook his head. "You can fool them, but me," he paused, and took a deep breath, breathing him in. "I can _smell_ what you are." Rowan smiled, taking a step back. "Good, now that we understand each other, you are going to explain to me how you control your wolf. And just so you know, if you lie to me, I'll kill you myself."

"I just focus on something," Derek had explained. "Something separate from the wolf, stronger than the wolf."

"And what is that?"

"My family, my sister. Protecting her, keeping her alive."

"You know," Rowan smiled menacingly, giving Derek's shoulder a squeeze. "I could kill you right now – the Brethren wouldn't question it. In fact, if they knew what you are, you'd already be dead." Rowan threw his arm across Derek's shoulder now, leaning in as though talking to a friend. "But I'm going to let you go, because you might be of use to me someday." His arm fell away from Derek and he began to walk away, calling over his shoulder, "And I always collect my debts."

* * *

Derek found his uncle in what had once been the family room. He sat with his legs hanging over the side of the armchair he'd moved to cover the hole in the floor near the fireplace. His hands behind his head, he stared up at the ceiling. "So, Adonis returns," he drawled, smirking at Derek.

Derek paused a moment, wondering what his uncle knew about the Brethren, if anything and if he would actually tell him if he asked. Considering Peter's mood, Derek thought better of it. There were enough people toying with him at the moment, he didn't need to Peter's cryptic non-responses, too.

"What's on your mind, kiddo?" Peter asked, pushing up from his seat and moving to stand in front of Derek. "You've got your thinking face on and we both know you're more of an action guy. So why not let your good ol' uncle Peter help you figure it out?"

"I gotta go," Derek muttered, side stepping his uncle and grabbing for his jacket. But in a blur of movement the older werewolf was in the doorway, blocking his way again.

"Seriously, though, if you didn't want to talk to me we both know you could've grabbed another jacket and avoided me, but you didn't." Peter folded his arms across his chest. "So, what is it you want to ask?"

Derek wasn't sure what to make of Peter's being so willing to help. Sometimes, he thought he caught glimpses of the man his uncle used to be, the man before the fire that he could trust. But then Peter inevitably did something to erase all doubt that the man he'd once been was gone, scarred beyond repair. "What do you know about the Brethren?"

"You're joking, right?" Peter stalked away from the doorway to the fireplace, staring at the empty hearth. "What is it with you and hunters? They're all the same. No matter what they say, their only purpose is to kill our kind." he offered, pinning Derek with his probing gaze. "If Rowan St. Christen and his merry band of hunters are in town, you can expect a war between them and the Argents' hunters." He moved to stand in front of Derek again, laying his hand on Derek's shoulder. Derek fought the urge to shrug it off, noticing what looked like true concern in Peter's eyes. "Just stay out of their way. With any luck they'll kill each other and leave us out of it." Peter's hand dropped away and the moment was over.


	5. Chapter 5

Derek pulled up to the gate of Rowan's house, his mind still processing Peter's comment about a war between the Argents and the Brethren. Why would hunters want to kill each other? Just one more question to add to the growing list and there was only one person who might give him some answers. Pulling out his phone he dialed Rowan's number.

"You'd better not be calling to tell me you failed."

Derek closed his eyes, concentrating on the sounds coming from the house beyond the gate. Becca's heartbeat was sluggish but steady, her breath even and he knew she was resting as he'd suggested. "I need some answers."

"Don't we all," Rowan chuckled wryly. "What answers are you looking for exactly?"

"What the hell am I supposed to be protecting this girl from?" Derek demanded. "And why am I protecting someone who, according to her obituary, died over two weeks ago?"

"The obituary is part of her protection, like witness protection" Rowan replied as though it were obvious. "And you should be protecting her from everything."

"So, you faked her death and her fiancé, Luke's. By the way, you should tell your boy, part of witness protection is laying low and not getting arrested for drunk and disorderly."

"Luke and the Brethren are none of your concern. Becca is," Rowan reminded. "So, I'd suggest you stop digging into our business before the Brethren makes you theirs."

"You can't expect me to protect her without knowing what I'm up against. Things like what the deal is between your Brethren and the Argents. Aren't you supposed to be on the same side?"

"It's not the Argents, but those they work with that we have a problem with…although there are a few Argents I wouldn't mind having on the sharp end of my fangs. But then, I think you beat me to that."

Derek grimaced at the reminder of how Scott had used him to kill Gerard Argent. Somehow it always felt like he was being used by someone. First Peter, then Scott and now Rowan. And although everyone seemed to believe he'd bitten Mrs. Argent, he hadn't. His only thought at the time was to protect Scott, that was true but he would never bite an Argent and make himself public enemy number one to the hunters. The only way to clear his name would be to find the unknown Alpha who had framed him and offer him up to the Argents. "I didn't kill Mrs. Argent. Someone else did, and left me to take the blame."

"We may have a common enemy, then."

"Why would he be after Becca?" Derek asked, trying to see the connection. Had the same werewolf attacked Becca? Was that what had happened to her? It seemed unlikely she'd been bitten. Derek had never seen the bite weaken a person; it either killed them within a matter of days or strengthened them. "Why me? Why get me to protect her? Wouldn't she be safer with your hunters, with her fiancé?"

"She's safer with someone who understands a wolf's mentality."

* * *

Derek pulled his car onto the grounds and secured the gate behind him. He stood a moment at the gate, scanning the road and wooded area across for signs of the other wolf. Derek didn't think the wolf would be hanging around, waiting to be spotted after the fire. The fire was a scare tactic. He wanted Becca to know he could get to her and he would let that fear play on her a while. Of course, Becca didn't scare easily.

Derek turned away from the gate, his hands grazing along the brick wall as he walked the perimeter. He caught the faint scent of another wolf as he rounded back to the front of the grounds. It was about twenty feet from the gate and had a direct line of sight of the living room windows. Derek jump atop the wall with ease, surveying the house. He could easily see into the windows from this height. The wolf's scent was stronger here and Derek knew he had waited for the moment when his message would have the most effect.

Derek turned to survey the trees across the street again. Now that he had the scent, he moved to follow it, hoping it would lead him to some clue about who the wolf was. As he pressed forward and the air pressure seemed to change around him, leaving him disoriented. He shook his head, trying to clear it. The wall shifted beneath him and he lost his footing, falling back onto the grounds, the wind knocked out of him. _What the hell was that?_

Derek pushed through the front door, hunched over, hand holding his side. He wasn't sure what had just happened but he was pretty sure he had a few broken ribs. He took a breath, straightening up as he entered the living room.

"What the hell are you?" Becca demanded as he breached the threshold, gun pointed at him in one hand and stake in the other.

Derek held up his hands, forcing his gaze from the gun to her face. "Becca, listen why don't you put the gun away?" he suggested in a calm voice. The last thing he wanted was to get shot. Sure he would heal, but he'd be sore for at least a week. "I know you're on edge after what happened this morning, but I'm here to protect you, not to hurt you." He held out his hand for her to give him the gun and took a step forward,

"Don't," she warned, leveling the gun at his face. "I saw you jump onto the wall." She nudged her head at the window. "And now I'm watching a cut heal on your cheek." Derek's fingers moved to his cheek and came away feeling sticky. "So what is it? Are…are you a vampire?" she demanded, her voice faltering.

Derek shook his head. He could hear the laboured staccato of her heart even as she forced her breathing to remain even. "I'm not a vampire," he assured. She studied him, searching for some sign of whether he was lying.

"But you're not human," she choked out, the stake dropping from her hand, apparently satisfied he wasn't lying. She held the gun with both hands trying to keep it steady without looking like she was struggling.

"I'm a quick healer," Derek replied simply and with a burst of speed was beside her, snatching the gun from her hand. "And even faster on my feet."

He moved away from her to the leather arm chair she'd occupied earlier while she stayed rooted in place, glaring at him. "Look, if I was going to try to hurt you, don't you think I'd have done it while you were sleeping?" He motioned to the couch behind her. She sat down without a word her arms crossed over her chest and continued to glare at him. "So, what makes you so sure whoever set the fire did it from behind the gate? They could've climbed over the wall, it's not that high."

"Because I know a human didn't set the fire."

"I'd doubt a simple brick wall and gate could keep something supernatural out." Derek frowned, but it wasn't a simple brick wall. He remembered that first night with Rowan. How the vampire had boasted about carving the sigils himself. "Is it some kind of spell?" Becca remained silent her jaw set, her eyes filled with distrust. "You were sure I'd left the gate open," Derek mumbled, pushing up from the chair and moving to the window. He looked at the gate again. From close up you didn't notice it, but from farther away he could clearly see the metal bars of the gate created a sigil like the ones carved into the bricks. "It's a protective circle of some kind." He turned back to Becca, but didn't need her confirmation. It made sense that Rowan would know how to do something like that. "Closing the gate closes the circuit."

"You're a regular Sherlock Holmes. So glad you got _your_ answers," Becca muttered, her gaze flitting from the stake on the floor to glower at Derek. "It doesn't exactly tell us what set the fire, does it? For all I know you're working with whatever it is."

"Do you really think Rowan would have left you here with me if he thought I was a threat?"

"For all I know, Rowan set the fire."

"So this is all some elaborate ruse by Rowan? Why the hell would he set a fire and try to scare you?"

"Maybe he wants to cut his losses," Becca suggested, pushing up from the couch and standing with her back to Derek. "Maybe he realized there's no fixing me and what use is a hunter who can't hunt, a hunter who needs protecting?" She turned to look at him again. "All this just happens to start when he leaves? And you aren't exactly on Beacon Hills' most stand-up citizen list. It would be easy to pin this on you."

"Maybe, you're right."


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter 6**

Derek studied the gate a long moment after locking it. He moved his hand to a space between the bars trying to pass it through and came up against the invisible barrier. He could feel it the moment the circuit was closed and the protective perimeter was activated. It was like the air around the wall and gate was vibrating.

Satisfied that his charge was safely ensconced within this barrier, protected from everything but herself, he moved to along the wall until he picked up the scent from earlier. Crossing the deserted road, he moved into the woods. He focused on the scent, moving through the trees with the ease of someone who’d grown up wandering them. About twenty feet in he heard a twig snap. He halted his step, listening intently to his surroundings. He groaned at the now familiar sound of Becca’s stuttering heartbeat.

She gasped and held her breath when she was about fifteen feet away and he knew he was in her view again. He imagined her hand over her mouth to quiet her breathing even as her frantic heartbeat betrayed her presence. Derek hesitated. He should drag her back to the house and lock her in her bedroom. Maybe even tie her to a chair so she would stay put. But the scent was already fading as the evening wind picked up and he couldn’t afford to lose it completely. He would just have to keep an ear out for her until he was done.

He started walking again, pausing every now and then to look at the ground or a broken twig or branch and allowing her to catch up again so she remained close enough that he could intervene if there was danger but far enough that she wouldn’t realize he wasn’t following a physical trail. The scent faded at the edge of the woods that flanked Scott’s yard.

Derek surveyed the house. All the lights were out except the one on the porch and the driveway was empty. Scott and his mom were both at work. He didn’t like the idea that the werewolf after Becca had ended up here, it couldn’t be a coincidence. He didn’t have long to consider what it meant as Becca had caught up again. While earlier she’d been making her way quietly behind him, she now sounded winded, her fatigue making her less cautious in her step and clearly announcing her presence. Doubling back he found her leaning against a tree, catching her breath.

“What are you doing out here?”

She startled at his voice, swinging her gun around at him. “W-what the hell’s your problem?” she demanded in a hushed whisper. “I could’ve shot you.”

“Before or after I came up behind you and snapped your neck?” Becca glared at him, squaring her shoulders. Her gun still pointed at him as though she were considering whether to shoot him after all. The hunter obviously didn’t like her skills being questioned. He had no doubt that before her injuries she’d been a formidable hunter. He could still see the determination in her eyes and in the commanding way she held her weapon.

“So, what did you find?” Becca lowered her gun, looking expectantly at him.

“Nothing,” Derek replied simply, staring through the trees at Scott’s house. What was the other werewolf up to? Had he picked up Scott’s scent in the woods?

“Nothing?” Becca repeated, pulling his attention back to her. “You expect me to believe that you wandered all the way out here and found nothing?”

“I thought whoever set the fire might’ve come through the woods after.”

“But they didn’t?”

“They might have.”

“Well, that’s helpful,” Becca drawled, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back against a tree. Derek stiffened. He could hear someone else in the woods. Concentrating on the sound he picked up two heart beats moving toward them. “What is it?” Becca asked in a hushed whisper. She pushed away from the tree her gun at the ready. Derek put himself between Becca and the threat. With his back turned to her, his eyes glowed feral red and he felt his teeth descend, readying himself for a fight. “Right, shove the person with the gun to the back.”

He could feel the tension pouring from Becca when the sound of someone approaching grew louder. “Stay behind me,” he ordered in a low growl through clenched teeth.

Before she could refuse, Stiles stumbled forward through the trees into the small clearing. He back pedaled his eyes wide, hands flying up defensively. “Jesus, Dude, put those away. You nearly gave me a heart attack!”

“What the hell are you doing here, Stiles?” Derek demanded, his eyes shifting back and his teeth retracting.

“What am I doing here?” Stiles’ repeated, his voice rising. “I’m out here with Scott.” Scott emerged behind him as if on cue. “What are you,” Stiles motioned between Derek and Becca, “doing in the woods by Scott’s house?”

“Derek, what’re you doing here?” Scott asked, the question sounding more like an accusation. He eyed Becca over Derek’s shoulder with wary curiosity.

Derek glanced back at Becca. She was leaning against a tree, her gun at her side, glancing up at the sky. Though she was feigning disinterest he knew she was listening to every word. He ushered Scott further away from the redhead, worried the younger wolf might give himself and Derek away to the hunter. “I followed someone’s scent, someone who set a fire this morning,” Derek’s gaze settled accusingly on Stiles. “What are you and boy wonder doing out here?”

“I picked up a scent I didn’t recognize outside my house. We were checking it out.”

“You should have called me.”

“Called you?” Scott scoffed. “Why would I do that? I don’t need your permission and I definitely don’t need your help.” Scott squared his shoulders and puffed his chest as though daring Derek to contradict him.

“So you think because your plan with Gerard didn’t blow up in your face,” Derek growled, leaning in closer and exerting his dominance over the young Beta. “That your next half-assed plan won’t get someone killed?”

“There was no half-assed plan I was just following a scent.”

 “No, this time there was no plan at all, except to put your friend in danger,” Derek challenged. Sometimes he thought Scott forgot that Stiles was human and breakable.

“I can protect me and Stiles just fine.”

“You don’t even know what you’re following—”

“Uh, guys,” Stiles called from behind them.

“—What you’re up against—”

“Seriously, I don’t want to interrupt all the posturing going on, but—” Stiles’ words were cut short by the sound of a gunshot.

Both Derek and Scott spun around, following Stiles’ wide-eyed stare to Becca who was pointing her gun at the darkness beyond. Derek could hear the frantic beating of her heart and understood her panic at the sight of glowing red eyes in the darkness, barely making out the werewolf’s crouched outline. He sprang as the wolf did, but it was closer.

He watched it knock her down, pinning her to the ground. Derek froze, the other wolf bearing its teeth, clawed fingers poised around her neck. The message was clear. Stay back or it would use those claws. Derek held out his arm to keep Scott from rushing in. Satisfied that they were complying, the wolf bent close to Becca’s face and to her credit she didn’t whimper or even squirm. She stared it down.

The wolf’s form shifted, not enough to give away his human identity, but just enough to lean in and whisper in Becca’s ear. “I’m gonna tear you apart,” the gravelly voice promised, grazing his claws along the size of her neck, down her chest and along her stomach. His hand settled on her side above her hip. Becca’s chin lifted a defiant challenge to his threat. “Slowly.” He inhaled her, saliva dripping from the edge of his mouth, hunger visible in his features. “You’re not ready. You’re not scared enough, yet.” His hand against her side jerked upwards and she gasped her breath quickening.

Derek caught the scent of blood, but before he could react the wolf was gone, taking full wolf form and racing off into the night. Derek moved to pursue the wolf, feeling Scott at his side and knowing the younger wolf had the same intention.

“Guys,” Stiles’ agitated voice gave them pause. “Becca, hey, you alright?” Derek heard the teenager ask in a hushed whisper. Inhaling the other wolf’s scent to commit it to memory, he turned back to his charge.

He leaned in to survey her. Her breath was shallow, her face ashen while her heart beat laboured to steady itself. She was shaking when he picked her up, shock and fear at what had just happened kicking in so that she didn’t argue or demand he put her down as he’d expected. Instead she pulled in closer, hugging her side with one hand while holding tightly to her gun in the other.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter 7**

Entering the grounds outside Rowan’s house, Derek moved to his car. “Stiles’ get the door.” Derek nodded at the car. He turned to the teenager, watching him hurry forward to comply. “I’ll drop you and Scott off on the way to the hospital.”

“N-no,” Becca mumbled, pushing against his chest. “I don’t wa— need to go to the hospital.” Derek set her down, crossing his arms and staring her down.

“Becca, you’re bleeding.”

“He dug his claws into me. It’s hardly life threatening. It doesn’t even need stitches it needs some antiseptic and a bandage,” she replied dismissively. “Bring your friends home, I can take care of it myself.”

Derek wasn’t fooled by her bravado. He could smell her lingering fear and could hear her forcing even breaths as she walked slowly up to the house. “I’ll take care of your wounds then bring them home.” Looking back, he was glad to see Stiles and Scott following. The last thing he needed was for his attention to be divided.

“Where are you going?” Derek called after Becca as he entered and saw her heading up the stairs.

“There’s a first aid kit in my bathroom.” Becca paused in her ascent and turned to look at him. “I’m going to tend to this…scratch.” Though she was playing it down, Derek noticed she was still hugging her side. “Honestly, I’ve got this. Go bring your friends home,” she assured, continuing up the stairs as Stiles and Scott entered the house behind him.

“Stay,” Derek ordered the two teenagers, hurrying up the stairs after her.

“Right here, on this spot?” Stiles called after him.

Becca sighed when he entered her room. “You don’t give up, do you?” she asked, easing off her jacket. “Are you always this much of a mother hen, or is it just for my benefit?”

“Definitely for your benefit.” Derek chuckled, slipping out of his jacket and tossing it on the bed.

Becca shook her head, suppressing a smile and moving into the bathroom. She pulled the first aid kit from the cabinet and handed it to him. “Where do you want to do this?”

Derek motioned to the foot of the bed and Becca took a seat, looking away as he lifted her bloodied shirt away to expose the wound. “What? Are you squeamish?” He teased, opening the kit on the bed beside him and preparing what he would need.

Becca shook her head and closed her eyes. “It hurts less if I don’t watch.”

Derek worked quietly, listening to Stiles and Scott talking downstairs.

“Do you think there’s something going on between them?” Scott asked and Derek wondered if the younger wolf had been listening in on him and Becca.

“What, like, BETWEEN them?” Derek could imagine Stiles doing some kind of hand gesture as he spoke.

“Well, she brought him up to her room and they sound pretty—”

“So you think she brought Derek up there for some _sexual healin’_?” A small chuckle slipped from Derek’s lips at Stiles’ words. “That’s where the first aid kit is. Besides, she’s a hunter.”

“Wouldn’t be the first time Derek’s fallen for the enemy.”

“Says the guy, who was dating the heir to the Argent family hunters club.”

“Ow,” Becca hissed, pulling Derek back to what he was doing.

“Sorry,” he murmured, realising he’d applied too much pressure to one of the wounds as he cleaned it.

“It doesn’t make any sense,” she mumbled, her eyebrows pulling together over her closed eyes. “It’s not the full moon, how could it be in wolf form?” Derek wondered if she was speaking to him or simply thinking out loud, but before he could respond, she opened her eyes and glanced over her shoulder at him. “Basic werewolf one-o-one: Werewolves are slaves to the moon. The afflicted person turns at the full moon and the wolf takes over. The human part of the creature rarely, if ever knows about the wolf and they don’t remember what happened when they were the wolf.”

Derek wondered how a hunter could have such a misleading view of werewolves. True, some alphas only asserted control over their Betas when the wolf emerged on the full moon, keeping them in the dark about their dual nature. And sometimes if a person was bitten and their maker orphaned them for whatever reason, it was possible they may never realize what they were, assuming they were sleep walking when they woke up in the forest the day after a full moon and never making the connection.

“There are some humans strong enough to control the wolf and bend it to their will. Then they can control when they shift and use the wolf to their advantage.”

“You seem to know a lot about werewolves.” Becca pulled away from him and turned to regard him. He could see the distrust in her eyes.

“Which is why Rowan called me to help with your problem.” He motioned for her to move back to where she'd been and prepared the gauze to bandage her wound. “Done.” He patted her shoulder and moved to the bathroom to return the first aid kit.

He leaned against the doorjamb and regarded her for a long moment. His mind kept circling back to why the werewolf was targeting her and more importantly why it hadn’t killed her earlier. Why was it waiting? “Why is this werewolf after you?”

Becca glanced up at him, looking almost surprised at the question. “Well, I’m a hunter and it’s a werewolf. The math is pretty simple.” Tugging at her stained shirt, she pushed up from the bed and moved her dresser.

“So, why didn’t it just kill you tonight?” Becca absently shuffled through her drawer, but didn’t respond. “Seemed like he was toying with you from where I—”

“Maybe he just gets off on it,” Becca interrupted, shutting her drawer without choosing a shirt.

“Maybe,” Derek conceded, “But it seemed pretty personal for it not to be more than that.”

Becca was quiet for a long moment, her back to him as she looked out into the darkness beyond her window the way she had the first night they’d met. “We killed his mate.”

“We?” Derek repeated, she nodded, but didn’t look his way. “Should we warn them.”

Becca shook her head, her shoulders falling. “There was only one other person on that hunt.”

“But he might go after them if he can’t get to you.”

“He already did,” she clarified her voice was hoarse with emotion.

Silence stretched between them as Becca continued to stare out the window. He moved to stand behind her. “I’m sorry,” he whispered finally, his gaze drifting to the ring on her night stand.

She took a shaky breath, scrubbing her hands over her face and he knew she was wiping away her tears. “Comes with the job,” she breathed, turning to face him without meeting his gaze.

“How did you find the wolf? Did you have a name or a picture of his human form?”

Becca shook her head. “We weren’t there for him, it was his mate we were hunting.” She moved to the chair in the corner, switching on the lamp. “Most times we track down werewolves by their kills. There’s almost always a string of two or three _animal attacks_ that link back to the infected person.”

“The police didn’t see the connections because they weren’t looking.” Derek took a seat on the side of her bed. “Animal attacks are pretty open and shut.”

Becca nodded, tugging her boots off and hugging her knees to her chest. “The victims are usually people who wronged the afflicted person in some way. The wolf taps into any anger or pain and exacts the revenge they would never take as a human.”

“So the animal attack deaths led you to his mate.”

“We followed her on the full moon. We had to be sure we were right, that it wasn’t just a coincidence.” She looked to Derek and he nodded. “When she turned we knew it was her, but as we killed her, her mate showed up…” She turned back to the darkness.

“Do you remember her name?”

“No.” She closed her eyes. “I had a concussion and there are a lot of details I can’t remember; not her name or what happened to my partner or how I managed to get away.”

Derek listened to her shallow breaths as she tried to keep her emotions in check. There was vulnerability in the way she pulled her knees up to her chest. He picked up the small throw blanket from the arm of the chair and draped it over her shoulders. His gaze fell to her sketchbook “Do you remember what she looked like when she was human?” She nodded up at him. “Do you think you could draw her?”

“I could,” she replied hesitantly. Derek wondered if she was worried that focusing on the woman would dredge up more memories of that night. “I’m not sure how much help a sketch of a dead girl will be without access to a missing persons’ database.”

“I’ve got that covered,” Derek assured, when she sent him a questioning look.

Becca nodded reaching for her sketch book and pencil. She opened it to the middle, her heartbeat lurching at the sight of the man she’d drawn on the tear stained pages. Derek’s jaw clenched as he remembered the obituaries Stiles had found earlier. _He leaves behind his fiancée, Rebecca Sinclair. Rowan let her think her fiancé is dead. Why?_

“You know, it can wait ‘til tomorrow,” Derek suggested as he stood. “I can’t use it until tomorrow afternoon, anyway.” Becca nodded, gently closing the book and setting it aside. “I’m gonna take those two home.” Derek nudged his head at the door. “And you should get some rest.”

She didn’t respond and he noticed the faraway look in her eyes. He was heading out the door when she spoke. “Are you coming back here after?” He wondered if it was fear or loneliness that prompted the question and decided it was probably a little of both.

“I have something to take care of after I drop them off and then I’ll be back.”

Heading downstairs, Derek stopped at the top of the staircase, listening for Stiles and Scott when he didn’t find them in the foyer where he’d left them. He quickly picked up their hushed conversation in the living room.

“How do you know so much about this woman, anyway?” Scott asked, apparently over Stiles’ earlier remark about his relationship with Allison.

“Wha—?” Stiles sounded caught off guard by the question.

“How did you know she was a hunter?”

“Well, she had a gun and she shot at a werewolf,” Stiles defended. “It wasn’t exactly a far off assumption.”

“And her name?” Scott insisted, clearly not buying Stiles’ lie. “You knew her name. I heard you say it in the woods before Derek did.”

Derek leaned on the doorjamb watching Stiles’ trying to come up with a plausible lie. “I brought him here at lunch to help me with some research.” Scott spun around to face him.

“It did have a more kidnaping feel to it,” Stiles interjected.

“I told him not to say anything to you,” Derek continued, ignoring Stiles’ comment. “I’m surprised you actually listened.”

“Not like there was anything to tell,” Stiles countered

“Except maybe, that there is a new hunter in Beacon Hills,” Scott angrily pointed out. “That might’ve been something to tell your friend who’s a werewolf. It’s not like it would affect me at all.”

“C’mon you can feel all betrayed in the car while I drive you home.” Derek clapped the two friends on the back and nudged them towards the door. “Let’s go.”


	8. Chapter 8

**Chapter 8**

“The prodigal nephew returns,” Peter greeted, leaning against the door jamb to the family room. Derek pushed past him into the room and began pacing the floor in front of the fireplace. “Whose intoxicating scent  are you wearing?” Peter asked, stepping into Derek’s path and inhaling deeply as he leaned in closer. “Is that blood, I smell?” Peter arched his brow and studied his nephew.

Derek moved away from his uncle, cursing himself for letting the older werewolf get Becca’s scent. If Peter knew who she was he would be a danger to her too. “Any news about the Alpha pack?” Derek asked, hoping to move the conversation away from Becca.

“I think we both know there is a more immediate threat.”

Derek eyed his uncle for a moment, trying to read his expression. Did he know about the other wolf? Had he sensed it?

“Do you think it’s a coincidence that the Brethren comes to town when the Argents are regrouping after the whole Gerard debacle?”  Peter dropped lazily into the armchair. “It has to be some kind of power play.”

“Power play?”

“Even the _good guys_ have differences of opinion on how to deal with the likes of us.” Peter’s penetrating gaze met his and Derek forced his face to remain neutral. “The Argents have a code – not that Gerard or his daughter ever followed it – but they only kill those of us that are a threat.”

“And the Brethren?”

“They don’t see shades of grey. Things  are black and white for them. Good or bad. They think they’re doing God’s work.” Peter sprang from his seat and moved to stand in front of Derek. “You stay clear of them,” Peter ordered. Derek thought he saw concern in his uncle’s eyes again. Was he really worried? Part of Derek reasoned that he was all Peter had left. But the other part reminded him that Peter was a very skilled actor and had put him in harm’s way more than once in the name of vengeance.

Derek stepped away from his uncle and moved to the window, surveying the darkness outside. Though Peter may have lied to him almost constantly since his return first from his catatonic state and then from the dead, Derek couldn’t bring himself to lie to him. “So, there’s been no sign of the Alphas?” He turned back to Peter when he didn’t immediately answer. “Well?” The older werewolf didn’t meet his gaze, looking like he was weighing his options and Derek knew Peter was keeping something from him. A growl rumbled in his throat and stalked to his uncle, standing toe to toe with him. “What aren’t you telling me?”

“I caught a scent,” Peter replied with a shrug. “It was a lone wolf.”

“How can you be sure?”

“Well, I only picked up the one scent.” Peter rolled his eyes and added in a sarcastic tone, “Unless the Alpha pack has found a way for them to all have the same scent.”

“But how can we be sure this lone wolf isn’t part of the pack?”

“Fine, maybe he’s a scout, maybe he’s a lone wolf, maybe he’s little red riding hood.” Peter shook his head. “Does it really matter? If he’s a lone wolf, the hunters will get him, they always do. And if he’s a scout, he’ll tell the Alpha pack this place is swimming with hunters. If they have half a brain between them they’ll keep their distance.”

Derek nodded at his uncle’s affirmation. It made sense for the Alphas to keep their distance. But he knew the scent Peter caught was the wolf that had attacked Becca. It was too much of a coincidence not to be. Derek headed upstairs and packed a bag.

“Where ya goin’?” Peter asked when he returned to the main floor.

“Taking your advice,” Derek replied, his hand on the door knob. “I’m going to lay low.” It wasn't a total lie, Derek reasoned. The Argents would never think to look for him at Rowan's and as far as Derek knew, there were no other Brethren members in Beacon Hill.

“Who is she?”

“Who?” Derek asked, turning his stoic gaze to his uncle all the while berating himself.

“Her scent is all over you, Derek.” Peter moved to lean against the wall beside the door. “You don’t want to get between another wolf and his prey,” he warned.

“I have to go,” Derek mumbled, staring down at the door. “You should consider leaving town for a while, too. Until this hunter feud blows over.”

 

* * *

 

Pulling up to the house, Derek closed his eyes and listened. He could hear Becca’s slow and even breaths, her heartbeat sluggish but calm. She was asleep. He turned his attention to the sounds outside the house, listening for anything out of place, but heard nothing out of the ordinary.

He stepped out of his Camaro, quietly shutting the door and listening some more. The sounds of animals wandering the woods merged with the rustling of leaves and creaking of tree branches as the breeze picked up. He breathed it in, searching for the scent he’d committed to memory. Nothing. Yet he only knew the werewolf’s scent in his animal form, if he’d shifted to his human countenance he would have a different scent.

He moved around the grounds, following the protective wall around the side of the house. He knew Rowan had designed it to keep Becca safe within, but Derek wondered if it was fool proof. When the gate was open and the circuit broken, could someone or something get over the wall? As he moved along the back wall he looked up at the house. Becca’s light was still on. Had she fallen asleep in the armchair where he’d left her?

The wind picked up, pulling Derek’s attention from the house back out to the forest beyond the wall. His gaze searched the woods. Still nothing. He was sure he’d caught the wolf’s scent, but it was gone again. He moved to the side of the house, climbing the vine covered lattice work to the small ledge above Becca’s window.

From his perch, Derek had a clearer view of the forest beyond the wall. He surveyed the trees, ready to climb back down, when he caught a glimpse of glowing red eyes. The wolf had a direct view of Becca’s window. Had Becca seen it out there watching her as she stared out the window the other night?

“Leave,” Derek growled, his gaze never wavering from those feral eyes. “Leave now before you make this personal.”

The wolf snarled, teeth gleaming white against the darkness of the woods around it. “What is her life worth?” the gravelly voice asked. “Is protecting her worth the life of someone you care about?”

“You don’t want to make this personal,” Derek gritted through clenched teeth, struggling to reign in his anger. If the wolf didn’t know about Derek’s dual nature he wasn’t going to let on just yet.

“She murdered my mate, she deserves to suffer. All that remains to decide is if you need suffer with her.” Derek watched the wolf recede into the darkness. He stayed perched above Becca’s window until he could no longer detect the wolf’s scent or it’s movements in the woods beyond the wall.

Derek walked around to the front of the house, Peter and the wolf’s words circling his mind. Was he really protecting a hunter? If Becca knew what he was would she kill him for it? Part of him believed she would, without a second thought. But her words about monsters being heroes made him wonder if things were so black and white to her as they were to the Brethren members she was associated with.

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Chapter 9**

Derek startled awake unsure what had woken him. He closed his eyes, taking stock of the sounds in the house around him. He quickly picked up the lazy staccato of Becca’s heart beat and sounds of her moving around the kitchen at the back of the house. He pushed up from the leather couch and stretched the kinks from his muscles. His hand moved to his ribs, gingerly testing the area around where he’d broken at least one in his fall from the wall the day before. It was still a little sore, but not enough to impede his movements. He made his way slowly from the living room toward the kitchen, following the welcome smell of coffee and breakfast.

“You look like you could use a coffee,” Becca greeted, handing him a cup. “You know, you could’ve slept in the guest room. I’m sure the bed in there is much more comfortable than the couch.”

Derek slid onto the stool at the kitchen counter, watching her move around the kitchen. She looked exhausted. The dark smudges beneath her mismatched eyes showed little relief from sleep. If anything they looked darker. “The couch was fine,” he mumbled and took a sip of the black coffee. “Probably as comfortable as the armchair you slept in.”

Her gaze briefly met his, her smile faltering, before she turned back to the stove. “Hope you like your eggs scrambled,” she commented with forced cheerfulness, her back to him as she scooped eggs onto two plates that already contained toast and bacon. “Rowan says they’re his favourite,” She pulled back her shoulders, standing a little straighter as she turned and set the plates before them. “But I think it’s ‘cause he knows I’m not very good with the yokes.”

“You seem to know a lot about Rowan,” Derek commented as he ate. There was a familiarity in the way she spoke about Rowan that hinted at a much closer relationship than Rowan let on.

“We’ve been on a few hunts together,” she shrugged, pushing her food around on her plate, only taking a bite now and then when she noticed him watching. “When you’re the only girl in a hunting party, you tend to get voted the cook a lot.”

 

* * *

 

After breakfast Derek suggested that Becca rest but she insisted she was fine. Instead she settled on the armchair in the living room to work on the sketch of the female werewolf in her human form. Derek headed outside and walked the perimeter. He didn’t think the wolf would show himself again so soon, but he needed time to think away from prying eyes.

As he circled the house he called Stiles, demanding that he and Scott head straight to Rowan’s house after school and instructing him to bring his laptop and a scanner. He hung up without answering any of Stiles’ rapid fire questions, then called Isaac. He told the young Beta to lay low and stay away from the Hale house, Stiles, Scott and Derek. The wolf had spotted Stiles and Scott in the woods the night before and would now have their scent. Derek just hoped that his absence in the woods the night before would keep Isaac off the wolf’s radar.

Derek returned to the house, but didn’t go back to the living room with Becca. Instead he wandered the first floor of the house. Other than the living room and kitchen, there were three other rooms with little to no furnishings. It was clear Rowan had only taken the time to furnish the rooms he felt Becca would need during her stay.

He looked into the living room and found Becca asleep, curled up in the leather armchair. It was little wonder that she’d nodded off. He’d heard her gasp awake at least twice during the night. He’d listened as she mumbled to herself, trying to ease the panic of the dream that had taken hold as she paced the carpeted floor of her room. After a while her breathing and heartbeat would calm and he knew she was sleeping again. He wondered if he’d caused her to dredge up the memories of the night of the attack.

He moved quietly into the living room and picked up the small throw blanket draped over the arm of the couch and covered her with it. He glanced down at her sketchbook. The drawing of the woman was only half done, yet the detail she’d drawn in the woman’s eyes gave them and eerie effect and Derek felt they were looking straight through him.

He picked up his bag beside the door where he’d left it the night before and headed up to find the guest room. Entering the first door at the top of the stairs Derek dropped his bag by the door. This wasn’t the guest room, it was Rowan’s room. The vampire’s scent still lingered in the air. His fingers grazing across the surface of dresser on the wall near the door as he moved around the room. The furnishings were lavish. Dark wood and rich fabrics in earth tones gave the room a decidedly masculine feel. Pulling open the closet door, Derek found it filled with suits, shirts and ties. The closet of a billionaire philanthropist.

He moved to the bed, sitting beside the nightstand. He scrubbed his hands across his face, wondering how he’d allowed himself to be pulled into this situation. A simple babysitting job. Watch the girl and keep her safe. Sounds simple, until you find out the girl is a broken hunter and you are protecting her from a werewolf set on avenging his mate.

With a frustrated growl he pushed up from the bed, knocking a book from the nightstand. He bent to scoop up the battered leather bound book. It looked like something that belonged in a museum. Derek ran his fingers across the cracked leather and sank back onto the bed. He opened it at middle, surprised to find hand written pages in an ancient looking script. The language looked like it was Latin, though Derek couldn’t be sure as he’d never studied the language. He flipped through a few pages, realizing from the set up and numbered entries that this was actually a very old, hand written bible.

He frowned it hardly seemed like something a vampire would carry around. But then he wasn’t exactly an expert on vampires. He closed the book noticing a piece of paper that seemed newer than the rest. He opened it again to the back pages and pulled a folded piece of paper from the book. Though it was by no means as old as the bible, the page was worn and looked like it had been folded and unfolded numerous times.

Derek considered the sheet a moment. Was it a letter? Setting the book aside, Derek hesitated. Something private? He took a breath, knowing he needed to make a decision. Either return the page to the book where he’d found it or satisfy his curiosity.

He unfolded the page. It was a drawing of Rowan. He sat leaning back against a tree, a baby asleep against his chest. Derek could see the care and detail in the sketch and knew Becca must have drawn it. He studied Rowan’s face, the content look in his features as he looked down at the child. It was a far cry from the Rowan Derek knew. His gaze ticked to the inscription in the bottom right corner next to his thumb. _Always in my heart, your Sunshine, Becs._

Derek stared at the words for a long moment, trying to understand their implication. They definitely suggested a more personal relationship between Becca and Rowan than either of them was letting on. It was something Derek had caught a hint of that first night when Rowan had introduced him to Becca and in Becca’s familiarity with Rowan.

Who was Becca to Rowan? And who was the child? Derek’s mind raced to the most obvious. Had they been lovers? Could vampires have children? But what about Luke? Derek was left with more questions than answers again and the two people who could give him answers were unlikely to clarify things for him.

Returning the drawing to the book and the book to its place on the night stand, Derek moved out of the room. He grabbed his bag and quietly closed the door behind him. He could hear Becca stirring downstairs and didn’t want to be caught in Rowan’s room. Moving to the middle door, between Rowan and Becca’s rooms he dropped his bag inside the room and headed back downstairs.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Hope everyone is still enjoying! Thanks for reading!**

**Chapter 10**

It was late afternoon when Stiles' jeep rumbled up the drive. Derek watched the grounds from the front of the house while the gate was open, his senses on overdrive as he kept a watchful eye on the front and a watchful ear to the back for any sounds of movement.

"Why are we here?" Scott demanded as soon as he was out of the car, stalking to the porch. Derek's gaze ticked to the Beta before turning back to Stiles.

"You brought everything I asked?" Derek asked as they youth slung his backpack onto his shoulder. Stiles glanced up at him and nodded. They'd followed Derek into the foyer before Stiles spoke. Derek was surprised at his restraint.

"Alright, so I'm here with what you asked," the youth declared, following Derek into the living room. "And considering we are both missing practise for this, maybe you could tell us why we're here." He huffed, his backpack sliding from his shoulder. "Cause coach Finstock is gonna have us doing suicides to make us wan— oh, hey Becca," Stiles greeted, when he noticed Becca sitting in the armchair.

"I think you're here to help me," she replied, a smile playing at her lips. She picked up her sketchbook and handed it to him. "I need to find out who this is."

Stiles studied the drawing, his gaze ticking from it to Becca. "You drew this?" She nodded. He looked down at the sketch again then to Derek. "How exactly am I supposed to help with that?" Stiles asked, though his tone suggested he knew exactly how Derek expected him to help. He just wanted Derek to actually say it, to actually ask him the favour.

"By scanning the drawing and running it through the missing persons' database," Derek ground out.

Stiles scoffed dramatically at the suggestion. "You want me to hack into a federal database? I'm good, but I'm not risking going to jail."

Derek's jaw clenched as the other three stared expectantly at him. "So, you don't know your father's password?" Derek gave him a skeptical look.

"And you expect me to betray my father's trust?" Stiles crossed his arms over his chest and defiantly lifted his chin. "For you?"

Derek picked up Stiles' back pack, leaning in as he pressed it to his chest. "Just do it," he growled.

"Okay, okay," Stiles muttered gripping his backpack. "Geez. Just so you know – this _favour_ is gonna cost you, buddy. You owe me BIG. I don't know what it is yet, but you can bet it'll be like freakin' HUGE."

Stiles moved to set up at the desk by the window and Becca followed, pulling up a chair beside him. "Right," Derek turned to Scott. "We'll be back in a couple of hours, call me if you come up with anything." He grabbed Scott by the collar and led him out of the house.

* * *

"Where are we going?" Scott asked as Derek strode past his car toward the front gate.

Derek glanced back at the Beta who'd paused by his Camaro. "You're going to help me track the wolf from last night."

"I don't get it," Scott replied. Derek heard him hurrying to catch up. "Why are you helping her?" He fell in step with Derek as he continued, "She's a hunter. If she finds out what you – what _we are_ – she'll kill us."

Derek didn't respond. He knew Scott might be right. He'd considered it himself, but something in her words that first morning about monsters being heroes made him want to believe she was different from other hunters. Tapping the code into the keypad he unlocked the gate and pulled it open, his scanning the grounds as he ushered Scott out. "Then let's make sure she doesn't find out." He led Scott around the wall into the forest beside the house toward where he'd seen the wolf the night before.

"Okay, why me, then?" Scott asked breaking the silence that had fallen between them. "Why not get Isaac to help you?"

"Because I'm trying to keep him out of this," Derek ground out. "I was trying to keep you all out of this."

"Yeah, great job with that." Scott folded his arms across his chest. "I mean bringing us to the hunter's house was a great way to keep us out of it."

"If you and Stiles hadn't been wandering around the woods last night," He spun around to face the Beta. "He's got your scents now and associates them with me – with her. I can't change that."

"Right so might as well get us fully involved, then."

"It's safer for Stiles behind that gate and for you with me – where I can protect you." Derek spun on his heel moving along the brick wall until he reached the corner. He closed his eyes, breathing in the scents around him until he caught the faint scent of the other wolf. "Do you remember his scent?" He turned to Scott whose eyes flashed amber in the dim shade of the forest. Scott nodded. "Good, let's see where it leads us."

It seemed there was something to the old saying two heads were better than one or in this case two noses. Whenever one of them lost the scent the other managed to pick it up. They fared well this way for nearly an hour before the scent completely vanished. "What now?" Scott asked, surveying the trees around them.

But Scott didn't know the woods like Derek did. With one glance he knew where they were and where the wolf was headed. He picked up the pace and heard Scott following. He heard Scott's heart begin to hammer and knew the Beta had realized where they were even before the Hale house came into view.

"Do you think he's working with Peter?" Scott asked, voicing the small prickle of doubt niggling at the back of Derek's mind. "Do you smell that?"

"Blood," Derek replied, quickening his pace. He rushed up the steps the smell getting stronger. He knew the scent of this blood, he'd spilt it once himself. It was Peter's blood. Had the wolf managed to get the jump on Peter? Derek wouldn't have thought it possible, but the blood staining the battered wooden floor gave him pause. He scanned the room for any sign of his uncle, but found none. Instead he saw a pristine white page pinned to the wall above the fireplace. He stepped over the blood stain, ripping the sheet from the wall.

 _Trade you._ The paper crumpled in Derek's fist, his eyes shifting red at his barely contained anger.

"He took Peter?" Derek nodded, wondering if he'd led the wolf to his uncle. "But how, I mean Peter isn't exactly a pushover—"

"I don't know," Derek growled, hating the suspicion in Scott's voice more because it mirrored his own doubts.

"Do you think –?"

"I said – I don't know." Derek pushed down his anger and resisted the urge to _make_ Scott stop talking. He brushed past him and back outside, searching for some sign of where the wolf had taken his uncle. There was nothing and he couldn't pick up either of their scents.

Derek raked his hands through his hair. He'd never considered the wolf would go after Peter. Never considered his uncle in need of protection. The wolf was trying to force his hand, to make him give up Becca and part of him told him he should. Just hand her over and everything would be back to the way it was before Rowan called in this stupid favour. But then he would have Rowan to contend with. And could he really hand Becca over knowing the wolf planned to torture and kill her? It didn't matter that Becca was a hunter, he couldn't just sacrifice her. He had to find another way. They had to find out who this wolf was and get Peter back without involving Becca.

"Not a word of this, not to Stiles or Becca." Derek turned to Scott, their eyes locking. "Understood?"

Scott looked like he was going to argue, but then just nodded. "For now."


	11. Chapter 11

**Thanks for reading and to those of you reviewing YOU ROCK! Only a few more chapters after this!**

**Chapter 11**

Derek was on edge when they got back to the gate. He listened intently, surveying the woods for any signs of danger before keying in the code to unlock the gate. Once within, Derek turned his attention to the house. He frowned unsettled at the stammering cadence of Becca's heartbeat. He tried to tune it out, concentrating instead on the conversation between Becca and Stiles.

"How do you all know each other?"

"That is a _long_ story." Derek was happy Becca couldn't hear the telltale hitch in Stiles' heartbeat.

"Well, with the way this is going, I think we've got some time," Becca pressed with a chuckle.

Stiles' nervously cleared his throat. "Well, see Scott's parents got divorced and his mom thought he could use a male influence – so she signed him up with the big brother program."

"Derek's a big brother?" Becca asked, sounding a doubtful. Derek imagined Stiles nodding all the while trying to keep a straight face. "He just seems kinda – I don't know – intense, ya know."

"Yeah Derek is all about the intensity." Stiles chuckled and Derek could hear the boy fidgeting. "I'm pretty sure he practices his death glare in the mirror."

Derek's attention was pulled away from the conversation by the sound of Scott chuckling beside him. He turned and glared at the younger wolf, which only made Scott laugh harder. "It is a little too perfect."

Derek's hand shot out cuffing the Beta behind the head. "Get in the car," he directed, moving around to the driver's side.

"Where're we going?"

"To get some dinner," Derek replied, sliding behind the wheel. "It's going to be a long night and I don't want it made longer by Stiles claiming he's dying of starvation."

* * *

After they'd eaten, Scott and Stiles had called their parents claiming they were sleeping at the other's house. Stiles set up the missing person's database on Becca's laptop so they could split into two teams. Derek left Scott to fend for himself after about half an hour and went outside with the excuse of checking the perimeter.

There was no sign of the wolf, leaving Derek with plenty of time to consider Peter's abduction. Scott's question had been a valid one. It almost seemed more likely that Peter had teamed up with the wolf than his being caught unaware by the wolf. The blood on the floor had been Peter's there was no doubt, but Peter had planned around his own death, what was a little blood.

When he returned from his third trip outside, Stiles motioned for him to be quiet, nudging his head at Becca who'd fallen asleep. Stiles had moved to the floor, his back against the front of the couch where she slept. Derek moved to the window. His arms crossed over his chest, he leaned against the frame and stared out into the darkness, listening to the three heartbeats in the room behind him. Soon enough they'd all leveled out calm and steady like their breathing, and Derek knew everyone else was asleep.

* * *

Derek's eyes snapped open, his gaze shooting to where the others still slept. He pushed up from the ground beside the window and quietly moved toward the door. He caught the scent again, the scent that woke him. Moving out into the hall his eyes shifted to red and his claws digging into his palms as he fisted his hands.

"Down boy," Rowan chuckled, sauntering toward him. "You really are a good guard dog."

A low growl rumbled at the base of his throat at Rowan's taunt but he forced himself to shift back to human. "What're you doing here?" Derek asked in a hushed voice, glancing back to the living room.

"This _is_ my house, last I checked," Rowan replied, pushing past him and entering the living room. "Ahh, I see. You didn't want me to know you had a slumber party without inviting me." Rowan teased absently, but Derek didn't miss that his voice had lowered to a whisper as he moved to Becca's side. Rowan stood watching her sleep a moment, a frown tugging at his brow and Derek knew he was listening to Becca's heartbeat. Even to Derek it sounded weaker and more erratic than only a couple of days before. Her skin looked paler, the dark smudges beneath her eyes more pronounced than just the night before. Derek understood the unspoken accusation when Rowan shot him a questioning look.

"The wolf has made his presence known."

"To her?" Rowan hissed, closing the gap between them. "All you had to do was watch over her – here," Rowan threw up his hands gesturing around him. "Behind an impenetrable gate, with everything she could possibly need. So short of you letting the wolf onto the grounds, how could it make itself known to her?"

"Rowan?" Becca's hoarse whisper had them both turning her way. She sat up, smiling sleepily at him as she raked her hands through her hair. "You're back."

"You sound surprised." Rowan chuckled softly. "Or is that relief?" He sat on the couch beside her, knocking Stiles awake.

"What the – who are you?"

"I could ask you the same thing as you're in my house."

"This is Stiles," Becca chimed, gesturing to Scott who was now also awake and adding, "And that's Scott."

"And you all had a sleepover party here last night, because…" Rowan glanced between the two teens, his gaze falling to Becca's sketchbook on the ground next to Stiles' laptop. He reached out, picking it up and studying the drawing of the woman they'd spent the night seeking to name. "This is a great drawing of – oh what was her name? Carlie…Carlie Bishop?" He turned to Becca. "Have you remembered more about that night?"

"Wait, you knew who this was the whole time?" Stiles let out an exasperated huff. "Why didn't we just ask him in the first place?" He asked, looking to Derek

* * *

Derek pulled his Camaro onto the road behind Stiles' jeep, following him and Scott back to the Stillinski house. His senses hypersensitive he watched and listened for any sign of the wolf as they drove. He could hear Stiles drumming his fingers on the steering wheel of his jeep as he drove.

"What was that guy's problem? Can you believe he made us leave without breakfast?" Stiles asked sounding exasperated. "I mean Becca offered – but no-oh. It's not like we invited ourselves over or something," he ranted. "And who was that guy, anyway?"

"Didn't you say he was Becca's uncle?" Scott offered, sounding distracted. "He smelled strange," he mumbled.

"Strange? Strange how?"

"I don't know," Scott murmured. "Just different, somehow."

"Different, like not human? Or—?"

"I don't know," Scott cut-in impatiently. "Just different. I don't know what it means."

Silence fell between the two teens as they turned onto Stiles' street. Derek parked behind the jeep. Stepping out of the car, his gaze darted up and down the street for any sign of the wolf. When he turned his attention back to Stiles and Scott he was surprised to find them leaning against the back of Stiles' jeep, waiting for him.

"So, what's the deal with that Rowan guy?" Stiles demanded, breaking the silence.

"He's Becca's uncle." Derek moved to lean on the hood of his car, his hands digging into the pockets of his leather jacket.

"Ri-ight," Stiles replied sarcastically, folding his arms across his chest. "Just her uncle. Maybe I should rephrase the question."

"He's not human, is he?" Scott asked, pushing away from the jeep and taking a step toward Derek.

"Believe me, you don't want to know," Derek replied, his gaze meeting Scott's for a moment, before turning to Stiles. "I need you to look into Carlie Bishop. Try to figure out who in her life our wolf could be." Stiles' mouth opened to respond, but Derek gave him a look that let the teen know he wasn't in the mood for any witty comeback he might have. "Scott, you stay here with him and look out for the wolf." He moved back to his car door. "You call me at the first sign of him."


	12. Chapter 12

**Hey! Sorry for the delay! Had some problems with my internet access. Things are back to normal now so posting twice a week!**

 

**Chapter 12**

After a brief stop at the Hale house to clean up and take a better look at the scene of Peter’s abduction, Derek returned to Rowan’s house. He needed to convince the vampire to leave town with Becca, tonight if possible. With any luck the other wolf would be watching Stiles and Scott and Rowan could slip her out of town unnoticed. It wasn’t a perfect plan, but it meant that Derek would have one less person to worry about, one less to protect once they figured out who the wolf was.

Then there was that. Rowan had recognized the drawing of Carlie Bishop, maybe he knew the identity of the wolf. Except, if he knew who was after Becca why hadn’t he dealt with the wolf himself. Derek began to doubt that Rowan had figured it out. Did that mean they wouldn’t either?

“Well, aren’t you a good boy,” Rowan greeted as Derek entered, moving to the kitchen. “If I’d have known you’d be this easy to train I would’ve enlisted your services ages ago.” He chuckled, pulling food from the refrigerator.

Derek swallowed his anger, barely letting it show except for a flash of red in his eyes. “You need to leave,” he declared, standing in the kitchen doorway, his arms crossed over his chest. “You and Becca, tonight.”

“And why would I do that?”  Rowan smirked at him, leaning lazily against the counter as though waiting to be amused by Derek’s response.

“You wanted me to babysit, I did. Now you need to keep your end of the bargain and leave town.”

“You’re assuming your part of the bargain is done,” Rowan replied with a toothy grin that reminded Derek of Peter when he was toying with him.

“She’s got you to protect her now, you don’t need me.”

“But that’s where you’re wrong.” Rowan pushed away from the counter, the food forgotten. “There is one thing you can give Becca that I can’t,” he added cryptically

Derek glanced back at the foyer. He could hear Becca moving around in the living room, her heartbeat an ever slowing staccato, like a song nearing its end. What could he possibly offer her? Rowan was the one with all the money and connections. If anyone could help her, could do something to save her, it would be him.

“She’s too far gone for anything I can offer her.” Derek glanced back at the vampire, feeling as though he’d read his thoughts. Had he? “It’s not hard to figure out what you’re thinking,” he added. “I’ve had her name moved up on the waiting list for a new heart, but it could still be months before a compatible one becomes available. She doesn’t have months.” He turned away from Derek, moving to look out the kitchen’s patio doors

“How am I supposed to help her?”

“Turn her, make her part of your pack,” Rowan replied simply, turning back to face him. “Oh, don’t look so surprised. It had to have crossed your mind.”

“You want me to _turn_ her?” Derek repeated, shaking his head in disbelief. “And what, you think he’ll leave her alone then? That wolves never kill their own kind? It won’t change the fact she killed his mate.”

“No, it won’t stop him, but she’ll be healed and strong enough to defend herself again.” Rowan moved to Derek’s side, throwing his arm over Derek’s shoulder as he had the night he’d let him go. “And believe me, Becca can defend herself.”

He didn’t doubt it. Even with her failing heart she wasn’t quite helpless. “And what does she say about this?” Derek eyed Rowan a long moment and knew his answer from his lack of smarmy comment. “She’s a hunter, Rowan. Do you really think she wants to be turned into something she hunts? I’ve known hunters. None of them want to be turned; it’s a fate worse than death to them,” he added, recalling how Mrs. Argent had taken her own life rather than become a wolf.

“Not all hunters feel that way,” Rowan countered, a grin tugging at his lips. “Some search it out, in fact.” Derek knew Rowan was referring to Gerard Argent who’d plotted with Scott to get him to turn the ailing hunter. Except Scott had double crossed him and in the end Derek’s bite had proven fatal. “Besides, Becca’s not most hunters…She has a very different view of the world.” Derek knew it was true, he’d known it since he’d heard her words that first morning.

“Rowan, your phone is ringing,” Becca called from the living room.

“Just let it go to voicemail.”

“Rowan’s phone,” she greeted, having either not heard or ignored Rowan’s instructions. Derek heard her gasp, her heart faltering. He didn’t know who was on the line but it had shocked her. Rowan pushed past him, hurrying to the living room and Derek hung back.

“Becs, I can explain—” Rowan’s voice was pleading and filled with guilt. He touched Becca’s arm, but she shrugged him off.

“Don’t,” she hissed. “Just stay away from me.” She rushed up the stairs, leaving Rowan to scramble for the phone she’d dropped on the floor and moving into the living room.

Derek could hear Rowan speaking to the person at the other end. Something about how the girl who’d answered did sound a bit like Becca and weaving a lie about how that might be why he’d hired her as a housekeeper.

His attention was pulled from Rowan as Becca stumbled down the stairs with her purse and duffel slung over her shoulder. His questioning gaze met hers. “Where’re you heading?”

She studied him a long moment like she expected him to try to stop her. “As far away from this house as I can,” she replied, snatching Rowan’s keys from the table in the foyer and heading out the door.

Derek watched her go, part of him wanting to stop her, while the other reminded him that she was a grown woman with a duffel bag full of weapons and proficiency to use them. He listened as the car drove away, only pausing a moment as she no doubt opened the gate with a remote in Rowan’s car.

“You let her leave?” Rowan’s green eyes flashed with anger. “You need to go after her.”

“Do I?” Derek shrugged. “If she leaves town, you have no reason to be here.”

“And if the wolf kills her before she gets out of town, or follows her?” Rowan challenged, staring Derek down. “Can you live with that on your conscience?”

“If I do this, you leave with her in the morning.” Derek’s gaze never wavered from Rowan’s, waiting for the vampire to respond.

Rowan pulled out his phone and fiddled with it for a moment, before thrusting it at Derek. “There’s a GPS tracker on my car.”

 

* * *

 

Derek slid into his car, pausing to consult the GPS. He knew Becca wouldn’t have gotten far he just needed to know in what direction.  He groaned noticing she’d taken the most deserted possible route out of town through the woods that bordered Beacon Hills. He found the gate open as he drove off the grounds and onto the road. He considered getting out and closing it, but the person it was meant to protect was no longer within and Rowan could fend for himself.

He took a shortcut through town in hopes of heading Becca off. After a few blocks he glanced down at the GPS noticing that Becca had stopped moving. But that didn’t make sense. Why would she stop on the side of the road? Derek pushed harder on the accelerator, hearing his tires squeal against the damp pavement. He took little notice, gripping the wheel tightly as he maneuvered the car onto the road where he’d hoped to head Becca off and doubled back towards the house.

He hoped to find her with a flat tire or in a ditch at worst. But when his headlights picked up the glowing red of the wolf’s eyes he knew he wouldn’t be so lucky. His hopes of sneaking Becca out of town clearly no longer even a remote possibility. The wolf was atop Rowan’s car, clearly toying with a panicked Becca as she scrambled for a weapon. Derek pulled up in front of Rowan’s car and threw open his door.

“I warned you not to make this personal,” Derek growled.

“D-Derek?” Becca’s breathless whisper had him glancing her way. She was squinting at him as though she wasn’t sure. He turned back to his car and realized the glare of his headlights made it hard for her to make him out. Her breath was coming in short shallow gasps as her heart struggled at a frantic pace.

“I really thought you’d trade her,” the wolf grinned, his red eyes gleaming. “He’s your family. What is this girl to you that you would risk his life?”

Derek let himself shift, counting on the headlights to keep him hidden from Becca. He rushed at the car, jumping onto the hood and launching himself at the wolf. They tumbled down the back of the car, grappling with each other until they hit the pavement and Derek got the wind knocked out of him. He wolf quickly pinned him to the ground, his arms above his head, sitting on his legs to keep him from kicking.

“Finally, showing your true colours,” the wolf snickered, leaning in and inhaling Derek’s scent. His eyes narrowed as he sat back on Derek’s chest. “How is it a pup, like you, has the eyes of an alpha?”

“Derek?” Becca’s voice was tentative as she called out from the front of the car and Derek could hear the click of the lock on the door.

“Becca, stay in the car and close the window,” he yelled as the wolf shifted his weigh atop him enough for Derek to buck him off. He scrambled to his feet, listening for the lock and the window to slide back in place.

“Can you smell that? Can you smell her fear?” The wolf sniffed at the air, a hungry look in his eyes. “She’s almost ready. Too bad her mate isn’t here. I guess I’ll have to take one of the boys to complete my hat trick.”

“You’re not getting anywhere near any of them,” Derek snarled, leaping at the wolf, but it sped off into the treeline. Derek hesitated to pursue, not wanting to leave Becca unprotected in case Peter was working with the wolf and just waiting for him to be led away.

“Yet, I already got your uncle,” the wolf taunted. “A seasoned wolf. What chance do you think the others stand?”

Derek watched the wolf fade into the woods before he moved back to the car, forcing himself to calm and shift back before he made it to the driver’s door. He knocked gently at the window, taking in her pale face in the glare of his headlights. Her eyes snapped open and her gun swung at the window in one jerky movement. “Becca, it’s okay,” he called through the window with his hands up. “The wolf is gone,” he assured, nodding at the door. Her gun dropped to her side and she unlocked the door but didn’t move from where she sat. Her breathing was still shallow though her heartbeat seemed to have calmed to its irregular rhythm. “C’mon, I’ll take you back to Rowan.” He opened the door and held out his hand to help her from the car, but quickly stumbled back when she gun swung back up to meet him.

“I’m not going back there,” she insisted, glaring at him over the top of her gun.

“It’s not safe for you out here.”

“Take me to your house, then.”

He shook his head. “That’s not a good idea. It’s not safe there either.”

“There has to be somewhere else.” The gun fell heavily to her side and she looked exhausted. “If you take me back there, I’ll just run again.” Her gaze met his and he knew she would. He worried how much more excitement her heart could take.

“Fine,” Derek muttered, nudging his head at his car. “Get in.” He held out his hand for her again and this time she took it. She leaned back in to get her bags and he hurriedly steadied her as she lost her balance. “I’ll get your things.” He turned her towards his car, watching her shakily make her way to his car, her hand trailing along the hood of the car to keep herself steady.

 


	13. Chapter 13

**As promised, second chapter up this week! Thanks for sticking with me!! Only 3 more chapters left after this!**

 

**Chapter 13**

Scott greeted Derek at the door of the Stillinski house looking annoyed, but whatever comment he was about to make died on his lips as he took in a barely conscious Becca in the Alpha's arms. The Beta’s concerned gaze flitted from Becca to Derek with the unspoken question of what happened. He could tell Becca was in a bad way even without his wolf senses. Becca’s ghostly pale complexion and her still shallow gasping breaths were enough.

He stepped aside, closing the door behind them and following Derek up to Stiles’ room. Derek was greeted with much the same reaction by Stiles, except the youth never quite left anything unspoken. “Is she gonna be all right?” He pushed up quickly from his chair, setting it spinning as he moved to arrange the covers on his bed.

Derek felt Becca stir in his arms, a weary sigh breezing past her lips. “I jus’ need to rest a minute,” she mumbled as he set her down on the bed. “And my meds.” She pushed up from the bed, apparently intent on getting her medication.

“Her bags are in my car.” Derek tossed his keys to Scott and eased Becca back. “Scott’ll get your meds.” Stiles was hovering. His usual nervous energy kicked up about a hundred notches to the point that Derek could almost feel it pulsing from him. “Maybe you should get her a glass of water,” he suggested, watching Stiles jump into action.

Scott returned behind a breathless Stiles, setting Becca’s bags on the bed beside her. Derek helped her sit up, his hand bracing her back. “In my purse,” she breathed, sounding exhausted. Scott looked almost embarrassed as he felt around in her purse, pulling out two bottles of medication. “Which one?” They looked to Becca. Eyes closed, she slumped against Derek’s shoulder. “Maybe we should just let her sleep,” Scott suggested, his voice filled with uncertainty.

“How does her heart sound?” Stiles asked, grabbing the two bottles from his friend and examining them.

“Sluggish,” Derek replied, watching Stiles’ somewhat surprised reaction as he read the label on one of the bottles before tossing it back into her purse. He wondered what was surprising.

Spilling a pill into his hand, Stiles capped the bottle and sat on the bed. “Becca,” he called, giving her shoulder a gentle shake. Her eyes fluttered open, glancing at him. “Hey there,” Stiles offered a goofy grin and she smiled, fighting to keep her eyes open. He pressed the pill into her palm. “There’s your meds.” She slowly lifted her hand to her mouth, placing the pill under her tongue. She grimaced as though she’d eaten something sour or bitter. “Here.”  Stiles grabbed the glass of water from the nightstand and held it to her lips and helped her drink.

“Thanks,” Becca murmured as Derek eased her back down. “I just need a few minutes.” 

The three of them sat there a long moment until she drifted off to sleep, her breathing deepening and her heartbeat steadying. “So?” Stiles asked looking expectantly from Derek to Scott. “Did it help? Some of us can’t hear her heart without putting their ear against her chest – and well – I’m not looking to mess with a kick ass hunter even when she’s down.”

“It’s steadier,” Scott supplied as Derek grabbed the blanket from Stiles’ bed and draped it over Becca.

Derek moved to the window by Stiles' desk, motioning for the teens to follow. “So what have you found?” He nodded at the laptop.

Stiles slid onto his computer chair and began tapping at the keys again. “I’ve managed to hack into Carlie’s Facebook account.”

“Her Facebook account?” Derek hissed, leaning in close to Stiles as he spoke. “I’ve been gone for hours and all you’ve managed is her Facebook account?”

“I started with the police report of her disappearance, but that turned up a big ol’ nothing. No man in her life for well over a year,” Stiles defended. “But then I thought, what if she met the wolfman online?” He motioned to his laptop screen. “Girls put everything on their Facebook accounts.”

“So what have you found out from her account?”

“Well, it turns out Carlie was pretty private as girls go.” Stiles laughed nervously. Derek’s patience was wearing thin. He needed to know who this wolf was. He needed to find it before it found a way to get to Becca or the others. “B-but I did find out she was on a dating site.” Stiles tapped a few keys on his laptop and turned it so Derek could read the screen. “She downloaded this dating app, maybe one of the guys who checked out her profile is our guy.”

“And how many guys checked out her profile?”

“Well,” Stiles stalled, pushing his chair back a little. “A lot.” A frustrated growl rumbled in Derek’s throat. “But I can filter out a lot of them.”

“How?”

“Well, that is where you come in,” Stiles grinned up at him. “Tell me everything you know about the wolf. Did he have an accent? Did he speak fluent English? Any distinguishing marks?”

 

* * *

 

After a long round of twenty questions with Stiles, they were still left with little to go on. There was nothing defining about the wolf physically or in their conversations that could help whittle down the pool of potential suspects. Derek stood at the window, watching and listening for any sign of the wolf. There was none.

Turning back to the room, he forced himself not to hover over Stiles’ shoulder as he worked. Derek had rarely seen him sit still for so long. The youth was busily tapping away at the keyboard and clicking at his mouse fully engrossed in his endeavour.  Derek didn’t want to distract him. He moved past Scott who’d nodded off in the chair next to his friend to the bed where Becca still slept.

He studied her for a long moment. There was a little more colour in her cheeks than earlier. Yet the circles beneath her eyes were darker, making her look more exhausted every time he saw her. He tried to ignore the stark contrast between Scott’s strong, steady heartbeat and Becca’s faltering one. He thought of Rowan’s request, wondering what Becca would think. Would she accept it as Rowan believed? Or would she see it as a curse rather than a gift? And then there was the possibility that her body would reject the bite. What if the bite killed her instead?

“Damn I’m good!” Stiles exclaimed, his triumphant smile turning to a sheepish one as Derek glared at him from beside Becca. “Sorry,” he whispered though the damage was done. Not only had he woken Scott, but Becca was beginning to stir.

“How long was I asleep?” Becca mumbled, sitting up and glancing around at them.

“Not long,” Derek assured and Scott and Stiles both nodded when she glanced their way.

“What’d I miss?”

“There’s nothing new,” Derek lied, sending Stiles a warning look. “You should get some more rest.”

“So, you found something, then?” Becca asked, looking Stiles in the eye. Derek watched the boy squirm, willing him to lie. “C’mon, I can see you’re dying to share,” she coaxed, offering him a winsome smile. “Rowan’s had some of his best people working on this so I am gonna love rubbing it in their faces that a high school senior outsmarted them.”

“Junior,” Stiles corrected and Derek groaned.

“Right, even better.”

Stiles glanced nervously at Derek. “Just tell us what you found,” the Alpha grumbled.

Stiles sprang to his feet. “So, I managed to whittle down a list of a little over a hundred men who checked out Carlie’s dating profile,” he paused, beaming at each of them before he continued. “To – drum roll please,” he paused again, but Derek’s glare had him quickly resuming. “Ten!”

“Ten still seems like a lot,” Scott shrugged, “What? It’s not like we can go knocking on ten doors trying to figure out which one is our guy.”

“Did you not hear me say there were over one hundred?”

“Yeah, and that is great. It’s just we’re still not sure who we’re up against.”

“How’d you do it?” Becca asked, interrupting the bickering friends.

Shooting Scott one last disapproving look, he turned to Becca. “Well, first I got rid of anyone who lived outside the U.S. and then narrowed it down to Arizona and California, figuring our guy would have a connection to one or both places.” He picked up his laptop and sat on the end of the bed. “I might’ve been able to narrow it down more if Derek had remembered anything useful from his conversations with the wolf –”

“Conversations?” Becca glanced at Derek, her eyes narrowing.

“—Not that you can really blame him, Derek’s not exactly a gifted conversationalist.”

“You spoke to the wolf?” Becca demanded, crossing her arms over her chest.

“He threatened, I threatened back,” Derek shrugged, turning his attention to Stiles. “So, who are these ten men and where can I find them?”

“O-kay,” Stiles glanced at the computer screen. “Bachelor number one is Jake Goodall, he’s a fireman in Sacramento,” Stiles began in a game show host voice. “Lucky, number two is George Strunk, an engineer in Phoenix.” Stiles glanced at the others. “Yeah they don’t sound like our guy to me either. Then there’s Fred Holder – no wait – he works security downtown. My dad said he’s applied to be a deputy half a dozen times, but always fails the physical. I’d doubt he’s our guy.”

“Fine, who else?”

“Next we have, Henry Dufour. He’s originally from Montreal, Canada. He played semi-pro hockey and now he coaches at the arena. Then there’s Will T—”

“That’s him,” Derek declared, the hat trick comment leaving him almost certain Henry was their wolf.

“I didn’t even finish his name.”

“No, I mean Henry,” Derek replied impatiently.

“How do you know?” Becca asked, leaning in to study the man’s photograph on the dating site.

“Something he said about a hat trick,” Derek explained. “It’s when a player scores three goals in a game.”

“I know what it is—” Becca replied, rolling her eyes.

“That’s what you’re going on?” Scott sounded uncertain.

“Are you sure? I mean wouldn’t he have a French accent?” Stiles asked on his feet and pacing again. “Do you think he’s at the arena?”

“I’m going to find out.” Derek declared, moving to leave. Scott stepped in front of the door to stop him while Becca and Stiles called after him. “Move,” he growled at the Beta his eyes glowing red.

“You shouldn’t go alone,” Becca insisted. He turned to see her rummaging through her duffel.

“You’re staying here.”

“Derek, she’s right, you shouldn’t go alone. I should go with you,” Scott moved to Derek’s side.

“And what if the wolf is waiting for me to leave again so he can get to Becca?”

“Two high school kids are not gonna be able to fend off a werewolf if you’re right,” Becca countered. “No offense,” she added glancing between Scott and Stiles.

“None taken,” Stiles assured. “She does have a point.”

Derek raked his hands through his hair, wishing everyone would just stop talking. He knew they were right, but was bringing them all with him really an option? He briefly considered driving them to Rowan’s and locking them behind the gate, but somehow he knew it would only make things worse. “Fine, but you’re all staying in the car.”

He ushered them all out of the room, pulling his phone from his pocket and dialing Rowan’s number. “Meet me at the arena,” he said and hung up without waiting for a response. If he couldn’t get them to stay where it was safe, at least he could call in back up.

 

 


	14. Chapter 14

**Happy Holidays! So obviously Christmas has me updating a little late! Hope it was worth the wait! Two more chapters left after this!**

**Chapter 14**

It was well past midnight when they got to the arena. The parking lot was empty and Derek wondered if this was really the place. He sat a moment, focusing on the sounds outside the car. He could hear movement inside the arena but couldn't tell if it was the wolf.

"What are we waiting for?" Becca asked from beside him, pulling his attention back to inside the car. She stared expectantly at him, her hand on the door.

"You're waiting for me to get back," he replied, holding her gaze for a long moment. "You're staying in the car, remember?" He knew it was useless, the determination clear in her mismatched eyes. She wanted to end this with the wolf and she wanted to be the one to end it.

"Yeah, about that—" she threw open the door. "I thought about it and waiting in the car is not my thing." Derek grabbed her arm to stop her. "You want to let go." The warning was clear in her voice as she reached into her purse. Still he hesitated. "I get it, Rowan asked you to protect me – and you did – but now your debt is paid. You don't owe him or me anything." Her gaze ticked back to his hand on her arm. "Now, please let go before I have to do something I really don't want to."

Derek searched for something to say to convince her to stay and came up empty. Derek acted, he reacted, he didn't talk. With a frustrated groan he let go of her arm. "Fine, but you're not going in there alone." He pushed open his door and followed her.

"Well, I'm not staying here either," Stiles called from behind them and Derek heard the two teens clamber out of the car and follow them.

"So, what's your plan?" He asked as they walked across the lot.

"Yeah, what's the plan?" Stiles parrotted, falling in step next to Becca. Derek glanced at the youth, noticing a mixture of excitement and dread gleaming in his eyes.

"Find the wolf, kill the wolf," Becca replied with a shrug.

"I like it, it's simple." Stiles laughed nervously. "But do we have a backup plan for when things get, you know, complicated?"

"You and Scott stay out of the way," Becca instructed. She stopped at the door her hand on the handle and turned to look at the two of them. "You shouldn't have been involved in this in the first place.I don't want anything happening to you - either of you." Her gaze ticked between the two of them. They both nodded, but Derek didn't miss the look that pased between them when Becca turned and pulled open the door.

Derek caught the Dufour's scent as they entered and it set him on edge. The arena was dark save for the flood lights around the exits and three dim lights above the ice. Plenty of places for Dufour to lie in wait. Becca edged down to the ice, gun in hand and followed closely by Stiles with Scott and Derek taking up the rear. He could see the tension in the young beta's features as he studied the darkness for any sign of the wolf.

"Oh my God," Becca gasped and Derek followed her gaze to the ice.

"Is that Peter?" Stiles asked, glancing back at Derek. Peter looked unconscious. Beaten and bloodied, his clothes torn he was propped up against the large tire of the Zamboni parked at center ice.

"You know him?" Becca glanced between the three of them.

"He's Derek's uncle," Stiles supplied and Derek groaned as that sent Becca rushing onto the ice. "Becca wait," Stiles called, hurrying after her.

"He's hurt." Becca glided slowly across the ice to Peter's side. His uncle's steady heartbeat and breathing led Derek to believe he really was unconscious, but with Peter you could never be sure.

Derek moved to step on the ice, but came up against an invisible barrier much like the one Stiles had created with the mountain ash around the rave to trap Jackson. "Stiles," he called, feeling Scott struggling against the barrier beside him. It was a trap and Peter was the bait.

"What?" Stiles scrambled to keep his balance as he turned too fast to face them. His eyes grew wide as he watched Scott still pushing against the invisible barrier. "Right," he nodded, turning back to Becca who was kneeling at Peter's side. "Becca we need to get off the ice – right n—"

"Leaving my little party so soon?" Dufour sauntered out from behind the Zamboni. He flashed a toothy grin Derek's way. "Oh, two of you…how unexpected," he nodded at Scott. "I'm a little disappointed, really. But I can get to you both later." Becca scrambled to her feet, leveling her gun at him. "Now, now," he shook his head. "We both know you can't kill me with that."

"No, it won't," Becca conceded. "But it'll still hurt." She squeezed off a round to illustrate her point. The bullet hit him square in the heart and sent him sprawling on his back. "Stiles, run."

Instead of running off the ice as she'd instructed, Stiles stumbled towards her, grabbing her free hand. "I know you're this bad ass hunter, but I'm not leaving you here with Wolfy McWolfenstien."

"Stiles, get out of the way," Becca ordered as the Dufour lumbered to his feet.

"Yeah, _Stiles_ , get out of the way," Dufour growled, shoving Stiles aside hard enough to send him sailing into boards on the opposite end of the rink. Scott hurried through the stands to where Stiles had landed. "Now where were we?"

"You're wolf is showing." Becca leveled the gun at his chest again.

"Go ahead," Dufour laughed, his arms spread out to his sides. "What happens when you run out of bullets?"

She pulled the trigger again, the shot echoing against the deserted arena walls. Before he'd even hit the ground she turned her attention to Stiles. Scott was on the other side of the boards calling out to his friend, trying to coax him awake. She moved to go to the teen's aid but the wolf was quicker, grabbing her leg. She fell forward, her chin connecting painfully with the ice. Her vision blurred with tears she watched the gun skitter across the ice to about half way between her and Stiles.

"My turn," he pulled her to him as he got to his knees. "My turn to pick the game." He pushed her onto her side, leaning in close to her ear and breathing her in. "I was gonna wait until the full moon for this, for poetic justice. I wanted you to die exactly a month after you killed my mate," he murmured in her ear.

"Hey, wolf breath," Stiles called, waiting until the wolf pushed away from Becca enough for the nervous youth to get a clear enough shot. The bullet hit Dufour in the shoulder and he jerked to one side. Stiles fired again and again, moving the wolf away enough that Becca could scramble away, butting up against the Zamboni. Derek could hear the clicking of the gun as Stiles continued to fire even once the gun was empty.

Dufour snarled almost fully shifted, his red eyes gleaming as he glared hungrily at Stiles. "You should have stayed out of this, boy." He launched himself at Stiles.

Something small flew at the wolf, and he yelped when it hit him in the neck. He clawed at his neck coming away with what looked like a small dart. "And here I thought you were all about the vengeance. Poor Carlie would be disappointed to see how easily you were distracted." Becca shook her head in mock dismay, tapping what looked like the plastic casing from a disposable pen against her palm. "I mean I could've just walked right outta here while you mauled him."

Dufour stumbled, unsteady on his feet. He stared questioningly down at the dart in his hand, his features shifting back and forth between human and wolf. He staggered toward her, the wolf taking control again.

"You don't look so good. That's the wolfsbane." She took a step toward him. "Bet you can feel it now, making its way to your heart." She cocked her head to the side. "You know what happens when it gets to your heart, don't you?"

Derek gritted his teeth at how much Becca sounded like Kate in that moment, the way she seemed to relish in killing the wolf. It left him wondering if she truly believed what she'd told him that first morning, or if this was the real Becca. He heard the door push open and turned to see Rowan enter the arena.

"What the hell is going on?" Rowan demanded after taking in the scene. "Why aren't you in there helping her?"

"There's some kind of barrier," Derek explained. He could hear Stiles taunting Dufour in an effort to draw his attention away from Becca. "Me and Scott can't get past it."

An anguished howl echoed across the arena, pulling Derek's attention back in time to see the wolf plough Becca into the side of the Zamboni. He heard the breath rush from her and her heartbeat hitch at the impact. Rowan set off racing toward the rink and Derek waited for him to hit the barrier and be thrown back at the rate he was running. But he didn't. Rowan passed straight through as though he were as human as Becca or Stiles.

Dufour staggered away from Becca, clawing at what looked like the plastic pen casing protruding from his chest. He stumbled to his knees his breath coming in short gasps as his body struggled to heal his heart, rushing his tainted blood to the organ and killing him all the more quickly.

Becca slumped to the ice against the Zamboni and Rowan was at her side. Her eyes were closed, her breath shallow. "Becs," Rowan coaxed, cupping her chin in his hand. "Rebecca Lynn Sinclair," he said, his voice taking on an urgent edge.

"Am I in trouble?" she murmured, her eyes still closed. "You only call me that when I'm in trouble." A smile tugged at her lips.

"You will be if you don't open your eyes." He crouched beside her, pushing the hair from her face. "I really need to see those beautiful eyes of yours, sunshine."

Her eyes fluttered open, but remained heavily veiled. "I'm tired." She grimaced and her eyes slid closed, her breath catching as her heartbeat hitched again.

"You need your meds," Rowan declared, glancing around.

"Her purse is in the car." Before Derek could issue the command Scott was racing for the door.

"S-Stiles?" Her eyes snapped open and she tried to push away from Rowan.

"I'm here," Stiles replied, moving to her other side.

She studied him for a moment. "Is he alright?" She asked, her gaze flitting to Rowan as though she didn't trust Stiles to be truthful. Rowan nodded and she slumped back. "Good," she breathed, her eyes drifting closed again.

"Becs," Rowan coaxed again. "You have to stay awake."

Scott was back and Stiles quickly scrambled to retrieve the two bottles of pills from him and rushed back to her side. "Maybe it's not such a good idea to give her this."

Rowan pinned him with look somewhere between questioning and annoyed. "Give me the bottle," Rowan growled his eyes flashing feral green.

"J-just hear me out," Stiles stammered, heartbeat hammering. "This dilates her blood vessels to get more blood to her heart—"

"I know how the pills work and I can hear her heartbeat—"

"What if she has internal injuries – internal bleeding? He slammed her really hard against the Zamboni."

"She could bleed out." Rowan's shoulders sank a little, worry etching his features as he glanced at Becca.

"We need to get her to the hospital." Stiles pocketed the pill bottles and moved to Becca's side to help her up.

"I've got her." Rowan stepped in and gently scooped her up. He paused at the edge of the ice and kicked aside some of the mountain ash lining the rink. "This wouldn't have happened if you'd done as I asked," Rowan muttered and pushed past Derek.

"Stiles," Derek called, tossing the teen his car keys when he looked up. Stiles glanced down at the keys then questioningly at Derek. "One scratch," he warned moving onto the ice.

"Right, death in the most painfully slow way you can think of." He hurried after Rowan, leaving Scott and Derek to take care of the clean up.

"Get Peter back to the house," Derek instructed, crouching in front of Dufour's body. "I'll take care of this."


	15. Chapter 15

**Almost done! One more chapter after this! Hope this doesn't disappoint! Thanks for the reviews and HAPPY NEW YEAR!**

**Chapter 15**

Derek entered the hospital a little over an hour later, quickly spotting Stiles and Scott sitting in the waiting room. Scott looked up as he headed their way. Stiles glanced his way before turning back to stare in the direction of the ER.

"She's dying," Stiles declared flatly by way of greeting.

"What?" Derek hadn't wanted to believe she was that bad off. He'd almost convinced himself that she'd be waiting there demanding to be discharged when he arrived. "This is a hospital, can't they do anything for her?"

Stiles continued to stare at the ER doors without a word and Scott shook his head. "I heard the doctor talking to Rowan. They can't operate, her heart's too weak." Scott met the Alpha's gaze. "They said all they can do is keep her comfortable."

"You need to bite her," Stiles declared, pushing up from his seat and standing toe-to-toe with Derek. "You can't just let her die."

Derek leaned in closer, glaring down at the teen. "The bite isn't some magical cure-all, Stiles. It could kill her." He turned away from them and moved to the ER door.

"She's already dying," Stiles muttered, knowing the Alpha could hear.

He moved through the ER, following Becca's scent. He stopped at the door to her room. He could hear Becca and Rowan speaking over the beeping of the heart monitor.

"I don't want to die here," Becca breathed, her voice pleading. "If I only have a few days..." Her voice rose with emotion. "I just…I can't die here, Rowan." She sounded almost panicked at the thought of spending her last moments in the hospital.

"Let me make a few calls," Rowan conceded, sounding disheartened. "I can't just take you home, there are things you'll need," he added. "Rest, Sunshine, I'll wake you once the arrangements are made."

Rowan glanced down the hall as he exited the room, before turning to Derek. "Do you know how many people who have failed to do something I've asked and who are dead?" He leaned in, his eyes flashing menacing green. "You should leave – leave and never come back," he snarled, pushing roughly away from Derek and walking away.

Derek entered Becca's room, moving quietly to her bedside. He stared at the heart monitor, the electronic beep sounding in time with the blips on the screen and her weary heartbeat. He turned to Becca. Her pale face looked gaunt and he felt like he was watching the life seeping from her with every shallow breath. Her hand felt like ice as he took it and whispered her name.

"That was quick," she breathed, her eyes fluttering open. "Derek." A smile tugged at her lips. "This isn't your fault, you know."

Derek didn't reply. He just studied her, wondering how she could smile. She was dying and yet she was lying there smiling up at him and trying to reassure him that he hadn't utterly failed to keep her safe. "I – I can help you," his voice caught in his throat as she squeezed his hand. "Maybe – I just – I need you to say yes." Her brows pulled together, but he continued before she could speak. "I need to know you want this," he added, allowing his face to shift as he looked down at her.

Her heartbeat gave a little jump, but she didn't seem surprised by his reveal. She laughed softly. "I knew it," she murmured drowsily, her eyes drifting closed.

"Becca?" he whispered, trying to rouse her, needing her answer. But she didn't stir and he worried about trying anything more abrupt to wake her. He knew there wasn't much time. Even if he hadn't heard her say days, he'd have known. He could sense her fading away. What if she was too far gone? What if the bite killed her? Stiles' words echoed in his mind. She was already dying. If he didn't bite her she'd be gone in a few days. What difference did it make if he bit her and she still died?

The true question wasn't if he bit her and she still died. It was if he bit her and she lived. Would she hate him for it? Would she see it as a gift or a curse? He thought of her words that first morning, wondering if she truly believed them. Those moments when she was killing Dufour had given him pause and led him to believe she was like Kate. And like the Argents she would consider the bite a curse. But then he considered her reaction when he shifted and showed her his wolf. She'd smiled.

He knew what he had to do. He moved to the door, quietly closing it and returning to her bedside. He considered where to bite her that might go unnoticed by the hospital staff. The neck and the wrist, where he usually bit, would hardly go unnoticed. He remembered the wounds in her side from that night in the woods. It had only been a few days, he doubted they were fully healed and they may have even bandaged them again.

He carefully pulled aside the blanket draped over her and lifted the edge of her shirt. As he'd expected a bandage was secured to her side with surgical tape. He peeled it back and stared at the claw marks. He leaned in. Feeling his canines elongate and taking a deep breath, he bit into her side. Her heartbeat jumped for a moment, but she didn't stir. It left him feeling a strange mix of worry and relief.

After replacing the bandage and blankets he took her hand again, praying the bite work. That it healed her. That she wasn't too far gone. But mostly, he hoped she would see what he'd done as a gift and not a curse.

* * *

Derek snapped awake at the click of the door. Looking up he saw Stiles standing in the room. He followed the teens gaze to Becca's bed beside him. It had been two days since she'd killed Dufour. Two days since Rowan had managed to set up a hospital room in his house with only a couple of calls. Two days since he'd bitten Becca.

"Shouldn't she be awake by now?" Stiles asked, motioning to the oxygen tube in Becca's nose and the heart monitor keeping time with her still labored heartbeat. "Or be showing some kind of improvement?"

"I don't know." Derek couldn't meet the youth's gaze, couldn't see the same accusations he saw in Rowan's eyes every time he looked at him. He knew they both blamed him for Becca's state. That they both felt he should have done it sooner. The truth was, he'd never heard of anyone being saved from death by a wolf bite. Most wolves chose strong humans to turn for their packs, humans that could be enhanced by the bite. "I've never turned anyone that close to death – I don't know how long it'll take for her to heal or if…" his voice trailed off leaving the worry that it wasn't working unvoiced.

* * *

A gentle sigh caught Derek's attention first. With his eyes still closed listened for Becca's heartbeat. A frown tugged at his brow. It was gone. He could hear two heartbeats other than his own in the room. One he knew was Rowan's, thrumming from across the room. But the other came from next to him where Becca should be. Yet this heartbeat strong and steady, it couldn't be hers.

"And where do you think you're going?" He heard Rowan chastise, the relief clear in his voice.

"The bathroom," Becca replied simply and Derek watched through veiled lashes as Rowan scooped her out of bed. ""I'm pretty sure I can make it there on my own," Becca affirmed, but Rowan didn't put her down.

"Do you remember the time you had the flu?" He asked, smiling down at the redhead. "Your feet never touched the ground for three days."

"Rowan, I'm not sick." Becca laughed soft and breathy, sounding healthier than Derek had ever heard her. "Really, I feel fine."

"All the same, sunshine, your feet are not touching the ground 'til morning," Rowan declared, carrying her out the door.

Derek smiled, feeling himself sink deeper into the chair where he slept. His body relaxed for the first time in days, relief washing over him at the realization that the bite had worked.


	16. Chapter 16

**This is it, last chapter! Hope it satisfies! Thanks for reading and to those who reviewed you rock my world! To those who didn't I love you all the same! Thise was really fun to write!**

**Chapter 16**

"You know, I always knew you were more brawn than brain." Peter's voice lacked its usual playful drawl as he spoke. In fact he was fuming. The older wolf had made a full recovery in the time Derek had spent at Becca's bedside. "But this – this is up there with the stupidest things you've ever done." Peter was stalking back and forth in front of the Hale family hearth. "You turned a hunter. Do you think she is gonna thank you for this?"

"I saved her life."

"Right," Peter gave an exaggerated nod and rolled his eyes. "I'm sure she'll be grateful after her first full moon which is in – what – two days?"

"I'll teach her to control it."

"Sure you will." Peter chuckled humourlessly. "I'm sure your little pixie of a hunter has the strength to rein in the raging beast that's now inside of her."

"You don't know her," Derek countered, pushing up to his feet. "You didn't hear her heart. She was still standing when most people would've been bedridden."

"Do you know what kept her standing?" Peter asked, looking unimpressed. "Plain old vengeance. Her need for vengeance is what kept her going, not her strength of will." Peter shook his head. "All this time you've spent with hunters and you still don't get it. Vengeance, hatred, anger that is what keeps hunters going. What do you think the wolf is going to feed off?"

"She's not like that." Derek growled, grabbing his coat and making for the door. "You're just angry that she managed to kill the wolf that got the jump on you."

* * *

"I'm not gonna chain you up in the basement, Becs," Derek heard Rowan chuckled from the living room as he entered the house.

"So, you're gonna let me kill someone?" Becca replied sounding infuriated.

"You're not going to kill anyone, Rebecca Lyn," Rowan's tone grew serious. "Derek is teaching you how to control the wolf," he added as Derek came to the living room door. "You can do this," he added, his hand on her shoulder his gaze unwavering from hers.

"I agree," Derek affirmed, entering the room.

"Derek the full moon is tomorrow." She turned her pleading gaze his way. "It's not enough time – I won't be ready."

"You are strong enough to control it, Becca." Derek looked her in the eye, seeing the worry and doubt there. "If I thought you couldn't I'd tell Rowan to lock you up," he assured.

She studied him a long moment and heaved a resigned sigh. "How do you control it?"

"I ground myself in something stronger than the wolf." He glanced at Rowan, before he continued. "I ground myself in my – my family."

"Your family?" Her gaze met his. There was sadness in her eyes, sadness and understanding. He nodded and looked away.

"My family believed that human life was to be preserved," he explained. His gaze trailed on the carpet so she wouldn't see his lie. While it was true that his family did believe this and instilled it in him at a young age, it was his anger that allowed him to control the wolf. It was his anger at the hunters who'd killed his family, but more potent still his anger at himself for allowing Kate Argent to seduce and betray him. "You need to ground yourself in something that gives you strength. Something that your belief in is unwavering."

* * *

Though neither he nor Rowan would agree to shackle her, Becca had convinced them to let her spend her first full moon in the basement. The sun was setting and Derek could feel the wolf stirring inside of him. He glanced at Becca sitting on the cold cement floor, her knees drawn up to her chest, arms folded atop. She hid her face in the crook of her elbow. Derek could smell her fear and hear her heartbeat accelerating.

"You've got this, Becs," Rowan assured from his seat on the stairs. Derek knew he could sense her growing panic as well. "You're the strongest person I know."

"Really, you think I'm strong?" She looked up at him, her eyes flashing amber. "Is that why you lied and told me Luke was dead?" she demanded her chest heaving.

"I did what I thought was right for everyone."

"You thought it was right to let me and Luke believe the other was dead?" She pushed up to her feet. "How exactly was that right – for everyone?" She cried out, her gaze pulled to her hands and the claws pushing their way out. She shut her eyes tight, her hands flying to either side of her head.

"Becca." Derek's voice was a low rumble. He'd never forced his will onto any of his betas and he didn't plan to on Becca.

"D-Derek," she stammered, her breath coming in panicked gasps. "I-I can't…P-please Rowan, you h-have to leave."

Instead of leaving as she'd asked, Rowan stepped closer to Becca. "You can't kill me, sunshine."

"Don't." Becca cowered, backing into the corner.

"Maybe, you should—"

"She needs to be able to control the wolf no matter the circumstances," Rowan interjected. He stood in front of Becca and took one of her hands, coaxing it away from her head. "You have to separate the wolf from your emotions."

"Just think of your anchor." Derek could feel her struggling, her heartbeat racing.

"It's not – it's not working." Becca tore her hand from Rowan's. Her eyes glowing amber, she snarled at the vampire, revealing her wolf fangs.

"What about your brother? What about Shane? Could he control the wolf?" Stiles called from the stairs, pulling everyone's attention to him.

"Stiles get out of here," Derek growled. What was the kid thinking?

"Wait," Stiles held up his hands as Derek stalked toward the stairs. "Just hear me out."

"H-how do you know about Sh-Shane?"

"That doesn't matter right now," Stiles replied evasively. "Just answer. Would your brother who stayed alive for what – almost two hours pinned in that bus to be sure you got his heart – would he be able to control the wolf?"

"Y-yes," Becca replied through clenched teeth. "I'm not that strong."

"Really?" Stiles questioned, sounding skeptical. His glance ticked from Rowan to Derek and back to Becca, meeting her amber gaze. "I don't think anyone in this room would agree with that." He chuckled softly. "You are his sister, Becca. You have his heart beating in your chest—"

"That doesn't mean anything. It doesn't make me as strong as him," Becca countered, closing her eyes. "I-I could never be that strong."

"And when you saved me from Dufour?" Stiles countered, stepping off the stairs. "I'd be dead if it weren't for—"

"That's not the s-same."

"Isn't it?" Derek asked. He could see Stiles was right, her brother was the key. Her hands were human again and her heartbeat growing calmer as she and Stiles spoke. "I could hear your heartbeat, Becca. I can't imagine the strength it took to stay standing, let alone fight that wolf."

"I-I just – I couldn't let him hurt Stiles."

"Can't you see how that's the same as your brother?" Stiles moved closer to her. "You stayed standing until you knew the wolf wasn't a threat anymore."

"And even then your first thought was whether Stiles was alright," Rowan chuckled, slapping the youth on the shoulder. "The kid's right, Becs."

"Becca, you've got this." Stiles took her hand and gave it a squeeze.

"Stiles, don't," Becca pleaded, her gaze meeting his and revealing her mismatched eyes again.

"You've got this," he nodded down at her hand and her gaze followed.

"But I—" Becca looked to Rowan who just smiled and then to Derek.

"He's right, you've got this." Derek assured with a smile.

"How'd you know about Shane?" Becca asked, turning back to Stiles.

"Well, that night you came to my house. I saw the anti-rejection meds and thought it was strange – I mean – if you had a transplant you should have been doing better..." His voice trailed off and he looked down at his hands. "So, I did some digging and found an article about you and your brother," Stiles admitted with a shrug.

Rowan moved to Derek's side and clapped him on the shoulder. "I knew there was a reason I didn't kill you the other night." The vampire chuckled and moved back to his perch on the stairs.

"And now we're done," Derek declared, casting a glance at Becca and Stiles sitting on the floor, talking. "My debt you is paid." Without waiting for an answer he pushed past Rowan and moved up the stairs and out of the basement.

* * *

Derek stood outside Rowan's house, watching the vampire load his and Becca's bags into the trunk. Becca was off to the side talking to Stiles. It had been a week since the full moon, a week since he'd seen her. He knew she'd leave with Rowan, he hadn't expected her to stay and be a part of his pack. Peter had laughed about it, about his lack of leadership and how of the four betas he'd created only one stayed.

With the others it had been different, there was always the possibility that they would stay. But with Becca, the thought had never occurred to him. When he bit her it wasn't to increase his pack or his strength, his only thought was to save her life. And her life was not in Beacon Hills.

"You could stay, you know." Stiles smiled. "Or visit," he added with a shrug, trying to make it look like it didn't matter, but Derek knew it did. Somewhere along the line Stiles had grown to like the hunter.

"You know, I might take you up on that," Becca chuckled, giving the teen's shoulder a nudge. "Rowan said he's keeping the house. So, who knows," She shrugged. "Maybe, you'll get a Thanksgiving invitation."

"Do you think she's ready?" Rowan's question pulled Derek's attention away from the conversation. He stared at the vampire for a long moment before he answered with a nod.

"Derek." Becca greeted him with a smile. "I wasn't sure you'd come."

"Couldn't let you leave without saying good-bye."

She held his gaze for a long moment before she spoke again. "Rowan told me about the Alpha pack – if you need me to stay—"

"No," Derek interrupted. "It's not your fight."

"But I'm part of your pack now, right?" She glanced back at Stiles and Scott, leaning against the teen's jeep. "Stiles said a pack is made stronger by each member."

"I didn't turn you to be part of my pack."

Becca pursed her lips and Derek thought she looked hurt. "No, you turned me to save my life." She smiled eyes brimming with emotion. "Look, all I'm saying is – if you need me, just call. I owe you." She threw up her hand before he could argue. "I always pay my debts."

With that she moved to the car where Rowan stood waiting. "Ready to go, sunshine?" She nodded, turning to wave at Stiles and Scott, before she slid into the car and they drove away.

 


End file.
